


l'histoire

by MardyBum394



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Frat Boy-ish Harry Styles, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson are the Same Age, M/M, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pet Names, Shy Louis Tomlinson, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28112256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MardyBum394/pseuds/MardyBum394
Summary: Harry plopped down on his bed and Louis scrunched his nose at him.“Just so you know, you are getting your covers dirty right now. That disturbs me.”Harry turned on his side and propped himself up on the elbow.“First of all,” Harry held out a finger. “I live with Niall, who basically had his feet on my pillow every weekend when we lived in the dorms, which makes me immune to that. Second of all,” Harry pinched his middle finger with the other hand, “I’m not going to sleep on the covers. Third of all,” his thumb stuck out and Louis frowned.“That’s not a phrase.”“What?”“Nobody says 'third of all’.”“Well, I do. So, third of all,” Harry raised his hand with three fingers sticking out and Louis sighed. “I accept myself and all my germs, thank you very much.”
Relationships: Eleanor Calder/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Harry woke up to a slap on his left bum cheek.  
“Ouch,” he mumbled into somebody else’s shoulder. He closed his mouth and felt the wet patch of saliva he no doubt left on that person’s skin. “Sorry,” he mumbled and nuzzled further in, short curls tickling his cheek.  
“S alright,” said Harry’s apparently curly pillow and patted him on the back. Another slap to the bum.  
“Wake up, you saliva factory, we’ve got footie practice,” said someone sounding suspiciously like Niall.  
Harry raised his head and blinked around. Niall was, indeed, standing a foot from him, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on his face.  
“Morning,” Harry said, lifting himself up. He glanced around and noted that he was, thankfully in his own room, his walls as pale green as they’ve ever been. The man currently spread on his bed with a blanket draped over his middle was Alex, who he shared a few classes with and whose haughty ambience from yesterday was challenging enough for Harry to want to see him in his bed. Which he apparently did. Harry scratched his head and looked at his lap only to realise that he, unlike Alex, did not have the luxury of a cover.  
“Why do I always have to find you naked?” Niall said as he opened Harry’s closet.  
“If you were half decent and allowed me privacy, you wouldn’t have to, you know.”  
“Here,” Niall threw him a pair of clean boxers. “I want you out in five minutes. And whoever this is, too.”  
“I’m Alex,” said Alex, raising his hand, the rest of his body as immobile as it was all morning. Harry pulled on his boxers, his mind still a bit foggy.  
“Nice to meet you, Alex,” Niall picked up clothes from the floor and threw them to the man. “Now, get dressed and be on your merry way, we need to leave.”  
“Can’t I just lock myself out later?” Alex said, propping himself up on the elbows. He looked quizzically at Harry, who just shook his head. Niall mimicked him, and Alex heaved a sigh. “Alright.”  
“Do we have summat to eat? ‘m hungry,” Harry said, rubbing his stomach and watching Alex as he got dressed. Harry stayed sat on his bed, still in only his boxers. Niall’s eyes softened.  
“I’ll make you tea. But we still have footie, in like, half hour.”  
“Half an hour! That’s plenty of time!” Alex said in astonishment, looking at the door through which Niall had just left. “I could have been sleeping...” he looked at Harry, who whispered the surname. “Horan!” Alex finished.  
“Do you want tea, Alex?” Niall asked from the kitchen and Alex gave Harry another quizzical look. Harry just chuckled as he stood up.  
“I’m gonna head out, thanks,” Alex said as he put on his (hipster) glasses, as Niall called them last night. He pecked Harry on the cheek.  
“We should do that again sometime.”  
“Yeah,” Harry said as he stretched, smiling. “See you.”  
“Next time you are taking him home though,” said Niall, as he reappeared in the doorway.  
“Were we too loud?” Harry asked in a smug tone as he opened his closet himself.  
“Pathetic, that’s what you were. Bye, Alex.”  
“Bye, Horan.”  
Harry pulled on his clothes and took the tea from Niall.  
“Thanks. Sorry about the whole thing.”  
“I mean, it’s your room, I’m not about to boss you in here.”  
“Aren’t you?” Harry raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his tea.  
“I only walked in because of footie.”  
Harry sighed.  
“Yeah, I should probably stop going out when we have morning practice.”  
“That,” Niall said, raising his cup in toast, “is a very sound idea.”

After the footie, which was held at an ungodly hour of 8 am, Niall hopped on the bus back home, while Harry hurried to a cafe, where a date was waiting for him. Although, twenty minutes into the date he really wished he was home with Niall.  
He looked into the window at a girl passing under a yellow umbrella and crossed his ankles under the table.  
“Harry?”  
He looked back at Michael, who was holding his teacup by his lips.  
“Sorry,” he said with his most charming smile. “Were you saying something?”  
“Yes. Are you free tomorrow?”  
“Oh.”  
Yes, Harry was free tomorrow. No, Harry didn’t want to spend it with Michael.  
He coughed and picked up a napkin, trying to appear calm as he was frantically thinking up a passable excuse.  
“Erm, actually, I’m leaving tonight for-” he rolled the napkin and brought it up to his eye level. He could see a vague outline of Michael and even discern his beak-like nose. “I’m leaving for home in a few hours. So I won’t be able to see you, sorry.”  
“Oh,” Michael said, looking genuinely disappointed. “How does the next week sound, then?”  
Harry shook his head, biting his lower lip and trying to look apologetic.  
“Sorry. We are buying...” Harry saw a horse passing by. As in, an actual horse in the centre of Manchester. He blinked, half expecting it to disappear, but it was peacefully trotting down the street, with an equally tranquill-looking man riding it.  
“What?”  
“Yeah,” Harry said, looking back at Michael. “What the hell, right?”  
“Pardon?”  
“What?”  
“You were saying you were buying something.”  
“Oh! Right, right! Sorry, I was miles away. Erm,” Harry spotted a waitress picking up empty plates from a table at the back but caught himself just in time and refocused on his companion. “Yeah, we are buying a horse.”  
“A horse?”  
Harry smiled and sat up straighter. Louis always told him that acting confidently would eventually make him feel it. Harry was in a habit of trusting Louis’ advice.  
“Yeah, my dad wants to start up a farm, you see. He’s already bought about a dozen hens and several geese, as well,” Harry prayed Michael wasn’t knowledgeable at farming. Harry for sure was not. “And now it’s time for a horse. I have a picture of the one he wanted, you just wait,” Harry unlocked his phone and smiled at Michael amiably. He pulled up his chat with Louis and typed out:  
PLAN D FOR DISASTROUS  
“Just a sec,” Harry mumbled, careful to angle the phone away from Michael. He googled a horse and clicked on the first picture.  
“Isn’t it wonderful?” he asked, showing it to him.  
Michael blinked.  
“I suppose?”  
“But it is!”  
“But why would you need to be there for so long?”  
Harry’s eyes widened for a second but he composed himself.  
“They’ll move house right after, my folks will. So I’ll help them move everything and then help with settling in.”  
“But don’t you have classes?”  
“I sure do.”  
“And how are you going to manage to attend them while being home?”  
Harry definitely worked himself into a deadend here. He glanced at his phone and, as if on cue, the close up of Louis’ surprised eyes appeared.  
“Oops, sorry. Gotta get that,” he said, trying to keep relief out of his voice, and retreated into the nearest corner.  
“Hello?”  
“Is it that Michael bloke?” said Louis in an amused tone and Harry felt warmth spread through him. Bless that night they came up with the Plan D thing.  
He glanced at the said man to make sure he did not overhear, but Michael was just looking around the cafe, anywhere but Harry.  
“It is yeah, can you imagine?”  
“So, I suppose I really need you here, though I can’t see how much use you will be in my Linguistics class.”  
“You don’t say! Prof Scrimgeour needs me?”  
Louis snorted so loudly on the other end that Harry glanced up at Michael again. He didn’t need to worry though.  
“Are you quite sure Michael doesn’t know Harry Potter?”  
“Well, judging by the reaction, no he doesn’t.”  
“Alright, alright. Prof Scrimgeour really does need you, Harry, even if he was never a prof at Manchester uni, but rather a Minister for Magic.”  
“All the more. Thanks for calling, I’ll be there in the flashiest of flashes.”  
“Harry, it’s too warm for ‘Love Actually’ quotes.”  
Harry chuckled.  
“See you. Thanks for saving my bum,” he added quieter.  
“Happy to help, princess. See you.”  
Harry pocketed his phone and returned back to the table only to grab his backpack.  
“I’m needed at uni, I’m so sorry. And I gotta go pack right after, busy day today.”  
“Oh, erm,“ Michael managed as he watched Harry chuck on his jacket. “I’ll text you this week?”  
“Sure! Thanks for the coffee,” Harry smiled brightly and practically ran out of the building.  
It was still pouring with rain outside, so he stopped on the little porch and pulled on his hood before skipping down the pavement. Thankfully, the bakery was on the same street. Harry was anything if not smart in planning his dates.  
“Hi Corrie!” he called as he entered the bakery and a blonde woman in her fifties looked up from the counter. The tables were mostly empty, what with it being a late Thursday morning, and Corrie was arranging the little pastries and cakes.  
“Morning, love,” she said, putting an eclair in between a slice of a cherry cake and a chocolate cupcake, as Harry hung up his jacket. “You are early today. It’s not even eleven yet.”  
“Oh, I finished my business earlier than I planned to,” he said, coming up to her behind the counter. He kissed the cheek she offered before putting his apron on. “Do you need help with these?”  
“No, I’ll manage. You could start on the special order if you don’t mind?”  
Harry clasped his hands together eagerly.  
“What have we got today?”  
He got to baking not ten minutes after: he was making a batch of chocolate cupcakes with the mint frosting, which took up a good part of his shift, so that by the time he was finished and the cupcakes were cooling on a rack, Corrie managed to sell half the cakes during lunch break.  
“Oh, wow,” Harry said, glancing at the half empty counters. “Looks like Niall isn’t going to get much today.”  
“Well, we can’t leave Niall without his desserts,” she said. “I think you can take a few of those fairy cakes.”  
“You like Niall too much,” Harry said as he accepted a paper bag from her and took two pink-frosted cupcakes.  
“Take a third one, dear. You two are still growing little things.”  
Harry’s eyebrows raised comically.  
“We are twenty, Corrie,” he laughed as he closed the bag. “We are not growing anymore.”  
She looked at him a hopeful expression in her eyes. Harry sighed.  
“Alright, alright. Niall will be delighted,” he said and opened the bag so that she could put in the third one. “I swear, that Irish charm,” Harry mumbled as he shook his head. “Does Matt know you have a random twenty year old you supply with your cupcakes?”  
She chuckled.  
“Matt loves Niall, too, you know that.”  
“Oh yeah, wasn’t Niall the one who he had a drinking competition with?” Harry said as he pulled on his jacket.  
“Yep, him and Lewis, when we were at their pub a few months ago.”  
“It’s not their pub, you know. They just perform there, is all.”  
“Well, but it did become famous largely because of them, dear,” she said as she fixed Harry’s still wet hood. He winced when it touched his neck  
“Is there anything Niall can’t do?”  
Corrie laughed again and fluffed up Harry’s hair.  
“I love you just as much, dear.”  
“Yeah, yeah, likely story. Alright,” he said, taking the bag again. “I’ll be off, then.”  
“Have a good day!”  
Harry left the bakery and pulled his hood on again, the rain not relenting a bit. He jumped onto the bus and reached home only ten minutes later.  
When he got inside, panting and soaked through, Niall poked his head out from the kitchen.  
“Alright?”  
Harry toed his now squishy trainers off.  
“It’s raining like mad out there.”  
Niall looked at the window as if to make sure, and then back at Harry.  
“Do you feel up for pancakes? I bought nutella yesterday.”  
“Yes, please. I’ll just change first.”  
“I’ll start the tea, then.”  
Harry sent him an air kiss, which Niall made an effort to beat away before disappearing back into the kitchen. Harry pushed his doors open, the glass insert making a loud noise.  
Harry hissed at it and scrunched his face, pushing the door further open. He walked in and headed straight to his closet.  
“Tough luck you’ve got the glass one,” Niall said from the kitchen, and Harry could hear his smirk without having to see him.  
“Just because you got here first doesn’t mean you are entitled to the room with normal doors.”  
Harry pulled out dry jeans and threw them onto the bed.  
“You could at least change that horrible curtain on it. It looks morbid.”  
“Black is always in style,” Harry said, throwing the wet jeans onto the floor.  
“Is that why all your clothes are black?”  
“Excuse me,” Harry said, poking into the corridor in just his boxers. Niall leant back from the oven and glanced at him.  
“Have mercy on my eyes, I’ve seen enough of you this morning,” Niall said and brought his hand to cover his eyes. Harry emerged fully and splayed his limbs out. He cackled loudly when Niall made a puking gesture. He went back to his room, saying:  
“Back to black, I do have different clothes, I’ll have you know.”  
He took off the boxers, which were also wet, and came up to his closet to search through the underwear drawer. “There you are. So,” he said louder, “your accusations are pointless.”  
“Other colours? I don’t think grey counts as an alternative.”  
“Once again,” Harry said, pulling on a clean tee now. It was white and had a Rolling Stones logo on it, and thankfully was very much dry. He snatched the jeans from the bed. “Once again, Niall, it’s called style,” he said, emerging into the corridor once again while pulling on his dry jeans.  
“I call it lazy, mate,” Niall said, looking up from the table where he was plating the pancakes. Harry walked into the room, doing up his fly, and sniffed the air.  
“Smells delicious.”  
“Don’t sound so surprised.”  
After the pancakes were devoured, they grabbed their textbooks and headed for their lectures, Harry for the English Baroque, and Niall for his Criminology class.  
“See you,” Harry said, dropping Niall off at his class.  
Harry walked to his classroom, waving and smiling at the others as he made his way to his usual seat at the very back. Alex from this morning smirked at him as he passed. He held him by the wrist, and Harry bent down.  
“Got some more sleep in?”  
“You know, now that I thought about it, I will take you to mine next time.”  
“Did Niall scare you?” Harry asked through a smile. Alex didn’t know that Niall balled his eyes out to Titanic just this weeked and needed hugs from Harry to calm him down.  
Alex raised his eyebrows, Harry winked at him.  
“I just feel better waking up without an angry bloke waiting for me to leave, you know?”  
“Alright, time to start!” said their professor, and Harry winked before he left for his place.  
He suffered through his class, glancing at the time much too often. When he wasn’t looking at the clock above the white board, he was staring into the window, from which he could see the sunlit grounds. He sighed every time, dropped his gaze to his notes, or to the two lines he managed to take down, more like, and raised his eyes back to the clock.  
When it struck half past three, Harry was up in a second, shooting out of the classroom before anyone else. He collected Niall, and they hurried outside, where Harry finally took a deep breath.  
“You look like you’ve been released from prison, mate,” Niall said as they walked down the steps.  
“I hate lectures and being stuck inside,” Harry said, stopping and spreading his arms wide, soaking up the late spring sun.  
“And if the class was outside?”  
Harry opened one eye and gave Niall a stare, who shoved him lightly and walked ahead.  
“You seeing Tommo now?” he asked over his shoulder, as Harry ran forwards to catch up.  
“Yep. Then I’ll pick you up, and we go hit the pub.”  
“Just don’t be late. I’ve gotta be on time today.”  
“I’m always on time, Nialler,” Harry said and it was Niall’s turn to stare. “Oh, could you iron my tee for me? I don’t think I’ll have the time.”  
“Don’t tell me it’s a black one.”  
“The black one.”  
“Alright, but I can’t promise I’ll find it amongst your very diverse collection.”  
***  
Harry raised his head from where he was doodling and squinted against the sun sneaking through the library window. He watched Louis turn a page as a great idea for a joke shaped in his head. He covered his doodles with his hand and bent forward to catch his eye.  
“Hey, petal?”  
“Mmm?” Louis asked, his chin pushing onto his palm. He was still reading.  
“Spider!” Harry exclaimed as he pushed the notebook towards him.  
Louis jumped out of his chair and looked around, his book clattering to the floor.  
“Where is it?”  
Harry hid his laugh behind his hand and nodded at the notebook. Louis frowned, looked at the doodles, then back at Harry, back at the doodles and at Harry.  
“Wanker,” he said, shoving Harry’s head gently. He dropped into his chair and picked up his book from the floor. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”  
“I thought study sessions meant you study, too, and not just read...” Harry bent down to see the book’s cover, “whatever that book is, I don’t even know that title,” he finished and leant back in his chair, hands behind his head.  
Louis sighed and dropped his book on the desk, propping his chin on his hands and looking at Harry instead.  
“Do you want any help with your Renaissance essay?” he said as Harry watched the many dust particles dance in the sunbeam. He blinked.  
“Thought I was supposed to do it on my own?”  
“Well, you will. We could just brainstorm some ideas if you’d like.”  
“Urgh.”  
Harry leant forward and hid his face in his folded arms on the table, pushing his history books away from himself.  
“Can we call it a day?” he mumbled into his shirt sleeve and hoped his puppy-eyes/voice would work. He heard Louis sigh.  
“Would Ann forgive me when you fail your final essay?”  
Harry lifted his head and looked at him. The sun lit up the ends of Louis’ hair, which really didn’t suit his frown.  
“I’m already halfway through, ain’t I? There are two more weeks till exams – I’ll be fine. Plus, we need to get going, or else the lads will be waiting on us at the pub. And Niall asked me to not be late.”  
Louis shook his head.  
“Just don’t make me tell you ‘I told you so’ later, yeah?” he said as he pushed his book into his bag with difficulty. Harry grinned at him.  
“I won’t, promise,” he said, already on his feet and pushing his own books back into his backpack without looking. He waited for Louis to clear the desk and get up before he nodded towards the door.  
“Come on.”  
They went down the corridor to the exit.  
“Freedom, finally.”  
Harry spread his arms wide, much like before, eyes closed. Louis shoved him in the back.  
“Don’t exaggerate, we were there for, like, two hours,” he said, already descending the steps. Harry squinted at him with a frown, which quickly turned from annoyed to mischievous. Louis stopped and turned halfway back at the silence. “Are you- Whoa, easy, princess!” he said, laughing, when Harry jumped onto his back. That was not the most comfortable Harry had ever been, what with Louis’ backpack digging into his tummy, but he didn’t mind.  
“A piggyback!” he squealed, wiggling a bit, and Louis started to stumble. Not a good idea, that.  
“Alright, princess, time to get off,” Louis said, taking a few steps back towards the steps, so that Harry could slide down.  
Harry obliged and hugged him by the shoulders before leading them both to the bus station where they would take their respective busses home.  
***

Harry and Niall entered the bar later than they planned because Harry, of course, took longer than he should have to get ready.  
“Come on, move your arse, we are late,” Niall told him, all ready, whilst Harry was ironing his tee.  
“If someone has done the ironing like they’ve promised, we wouldn’t be late,” Harry said to the tee.  
“I told you I met Greg after I dropped you at the library. I’m sorry, alright?” Niall said, pulling on his jacket and checking his pockets for the wallet.  
“Okay, okay,” Harry said and unplugged the iron. He chucked the tee on.  
“Could have gone without one, probably would’ve gotten laid sooner, you know,” Niall said, arms folded. He nodded at Harry’s torso, now hidden under his black tee. “I call it the butterfly effect”.  
“Is it flirting I hear?” Harry said, putting a hand up to his ear and frowning in pretend.  
“Can’t I just admit my mate is fit?” Niall said, handing Harry his jean jacket.  
“Well, I suppose you can,” Harry said, trying to put on his jacket and trainers at the same time and almost falling.  
“Easy, mate,” Niall said, holding him up by the elbows. “Ready?”  
“Yes, yes, yes, come on,” Harry said, pushing Niall forward and out of their flat.

Harry spotted Louis and Liam at the bar and headed towards them.  
“Evening, gents,” Niall said, lifting his imaginary hat, and Liam snorted.  
“Took you long enough.”  
“Alright?” Louis asked.  
“Yeah, sorry, we’ve gotten held up a bit,” Harry said.  
“Anything serious?” Liam asked, Louis perking up too.  
“Nah,” Niall answered instead, bending over Liam so they could hear him. “Someone just could not leave the bloody house in a crumpled shirt ‘cause, I suppose, one does not get laid looking untidy.”  
“Well, of course,” Louis said, exhaling on a laugh.  
“Et tu, Brute?” Harry said, making offended eyes at Louis.  
“Cheers, Zayn” Niall said, accepting the two beers from the bartender and passing one to Harry.  
Harry looked at his and then at the one already half finished in Louis’ hand.  
“Are you quite sure?”  
“Yeah, it’s been a long time, I should be fine.”  
Louis shoved Harry with another smile, and Harry sighed dramatically.  
“By the way, Niall, Ed already asked for you,” the bartender, Zayn, said.  
“Shit,” Niall said, grabbing his beer and leaving in the direction of the stage. “It’s all because of you, H,” he said over his shoulder, and Harry sent him an air kiss. Niall made a face at him, like a twenty year old he was, and Harry and Louis giggled. Harry looked back at Zayn but noticed Liam look away as he did so, blushing.  
“You’re new around here?” Harry said, leaning on the bar with his elbows and glancing at Louis for a second. Louis did not look like he knew Zayn either.  
“Yeah, had a few classes with Niall though. You must be Harry? And you are Louis, right?”  
“How did you know?” Louis asked.  
Zayn smirked and put on his best Irish accent:  
“Like, a proper tall fucker, that’s Harry, and his best mate, tiny, that’s his Louis.”  
They all laughed, even Zayn giggling reluctantly.  
“His Louis?” Liam asked, amused. “I like the sound of that.”  
“Tall fucker,” Louis muttered to Harry.  
“I like ‘princess’ better still,” Harry whispered to him.  
“And you must be Liam, right?” Zayn said then, and Liam nodded. “Well, it was nice to meet you, lads. I’ll see you around,” Zayn said before disappearing to tend to another patron.  
“Aw, someone is falling in love?” Harry said, leaning with his back against the bar and looking at Liam, who looked away with a new blush spreading on his cheeks.  
“Princess!” Louis hissed, frowning at Harry. He was about to reply when they heard Lewis’s voice announce a song.  
They looked at the small stage to their right and saw Niall and Lewis seated in chairs with guitars in their laps. The lights were dimmed, but there was a bright yellow lamp right above their heads, making it look like they were singing in somebody’s kitchen, and a cosy kitchen at that.  
“I feel so proud of Niall at times like these,” Louis said quietly by his side.  
“Really?” Harry asked, amused, as he half listened to Lewis sing.  
“Yeah. I know we aren’t that close, but still.”  
“I’ll make sure to tell him.”  
Louis looked up, smiling softly.  
“Just make sure I don’t sound ridiculous.”  
“You never sound ridiculous.”  
Louis blushed, or at least seemed to – Harry wasn’t sure in the dim light. They looked back at the stage and didn’t say a word more.  
Harry knew that Hold Me While You Wait was written by Lewis, just as he knew that their next song, On My Own, was written by Niall just this winter. Harry rather liked it, if he said so himself. He dragged Louis closer to the stage when it started, leaving Liam to give Zayn his bashful smiles.  
Niall noticed Harry’s wave and nodded for him to get on stage. Harry raised his eyebrows, but Lewis already came to the edge of the stage, reaching out for him.  
“Come on,” Louis said, taking Harry’s pint and pushing him in the back.  
“You look lighter than you are,” Lewis said as he hoisted Harry on the stage.  
“Hey!” Harry whisper-shouted.  
Lewis laughed and nudged him towards Niall, placing his own microphone into Harry’s hand.  
Harry waited till Niall finished his short guitar solo, and took a deep breath when he winked at him.  
“And if you ask me ‘round.”  
“Then I should decline.”  
“Don’t take it to heart.”  
“Your company is fine.”  
“But I get on better with mine.”  
Lewis waved to those listening to sing along and the small crowd sang,  
“Everybody got somebody, I just wanna be alone.”  
Harry smiled as he sang. He came up to Lewis and they shared the mic, Harry giggling half the lyrics. He caught Louis’ eyes and smiled broader when he received a thumbs up from him.  
Harry jumped off the stage to the applauds, his heart beating fast. His whole face was sweaty and on fire but he felt elated.  
“Well done, princess!”  
“Thanks,” Harry said, taking his pint, still grinning madly.  
Louis grinned back and they both turned to look at the stage again, the small crowd jostling around them. When they started Somebody to Love, Harry felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned around and smiled at a man with dark long hair.  
“I liked your singing,” the stranger said.  
“Thanks. I’m Harry, by the way.”  
“Patrick,” he said, shaking hands. “Can I get you a drink?”  
“Oh,” Harry said, glancing at his half-empty pint. “I guess so, yeah.”  
“I’ll meet you at the bar, don’t be late.”  
Harry smiled as he watched Patrick go. He leant back and whispered to Louis, who was still watching the stage.  
“Lou, I’ll be at the bar, alright?”  
“Sure,” Louis said, nodding at him. “And princess?”  
Harry turned on his way through the crowd.  
“You looked like a proper rockstar up there.”  
“Thank you,” Harry said, stepping back up to him and pecking Louis on the temple before leaving.  
***  
Harry adjusted his jeans as he stepped out of the toilets, his heart beating fast and his cheeks warm. He took in a deep breath and felt a little dizzy; his hair was sticking at his temples and his lips felt raw from kissing.  
“We should do that again sometime,” said Patrick from behind, squeezing his waist gently before stepping past. Harry thought it must be quite a compliment to receive that praise twice in the course of one day.  
“I’ll find you in a few, yeah?” Harry called after him, and the man waved without turning.  
Harry spotted Louis and Niall at one of the cabins. Liam was still at the bar, talking to Zayn.  
“I guess the butterfly worked, eh?” Niall asked, bringing a new bottle up to his lips when Harry slid in beside Louis, who moved to make space for him and handed him his unfinished pint from before.  
“What butterfly?” Louis asked, frowning.  
Harry just tapped his tummy, and Louis gave Niall a straight face. Niall snorted.  
“I reckoned he shouldn’t have put a shirt on at all, you know.”  
“Yeah, yeah, and get fined for public nudity,” Louis said.  
Harry took a sip of his beer and watched them silently.  
“Well, it’s almost summer, blokes go around with no shirts on, it’s fine.”  
“I don’t think it’s fine at a pub. Anyway, who is the guy?” Louis said, turning to Harry. “It’s not Michael from the morning, is it?”  
“No,” he said and felt a bit uneasy, though he couldn’t quite pin the cause for it. “His name is Patrick, but I’ve never seen him around before.”  
“That’s something new,” Niall said. Harry gave him a look. “Seriously, mate, you are going to run out of people to hook up with soon enough at your speed.”  
“As if you aren’t hooking up with people,” Louis said, and Harry felt a sting of warmth. He raised his eyebrows at Niall.  
“I don’t, actually.”  
Louis looked genuinely surprised as he dropped his pint down with a thud.  
“Really?”  
“I don’t do hookups.” Niall shrugged. “I date.”  
“Niall is a family guy,” Harry pinched in, his voice and look softer now.  
“That I am,” he said and his phone buzzed with a text. Niall looked at it and made a face at the screen before locking it and hiding the thing back in his pocket. He got up, slapping the table a bit too hard for support. He looked at Louis, “Do you want another drink?”  
“No, I'm good, thanks mate.”  
“What about me?” Harry asked. Niall turned over his shoulder, already walking to the bar.  
“Let Patrick be a gentleman and get you one for sucking you off or whatever it is you do.”  
“Actually-” Harry said, raising a finger at him, but Niall flailed his arms like he was fighting a fly.  
“Don’t wanna hear nothing about your sex life, darling,” he said loudly, making Harry chuckle. He turned back to Louis, who was frowning at their table.  
“What is it?” Harry asked softly, nudging him in the shoulder. Louis looked up and sighed.  
“I don’t know, princess.”  
Harry looked at the beer and then back up at Louis.  
“Lou, are you quite sure about this?”  
Harry pointed at the mostly empty pint.  
“I feel fine, more or less. I think beer is fine.”  
Harry gave him a sceptical look, which made Louis chuckle.  
“Honest, princess. I’m absolutely fine. And I had had beer before with no consequence.”  
“Al-right,” Harry said, still not feeling totally convinced by this.  
“I’ll let you know if I feel worse, yeah?”  
“Okay. But be careful, alright? Maybe you’d better now have any more tonight?”  
“I’ll see how I feel and act from there. Deal?”  
“But you tell me the second something is wrong.”  
“Promise,” Louis said, bringing his fist up for a bump. Harry returned it.  
“Oh,” said someone from behind. Harry and Louis turned with identical frowns and saw Patrick. Louis straightened up and sat upright, Harry’s arm falling on the seat between them. “Sorry,” Patrick said, already turning away, two cocktails in his hands.  
“No, Patrick, wait. It’s Louis, my best mate,” Harry said, grabbing Patrick by the elbow. The man’s face lightened.  
“Nice to meet you, man, I’m Patrick,” he said and wanted to shake Louis’ hand, but realized he was holding cocktails. He giggled, “Sorry. Imaginary handshake,” he said, smiling.  
“It’s alright,” Louis said with a polite smile. Harry spotted Niall and got up.  
“I’ll go hang out at the bar a bit, yeah?” Harry asked, already pushing Patrick away from their table.  
“Have fun,” Louis said, and Harry felt guilty even though technically he didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t, did he?  
Niall hip checked him on his way over, and Harry glanced at him and Louis at the table before turning and giving his full attention to Patrick.  
“So,” he said, taking a sip of his cocktail. “Are you a student?”  
“Yep,” Patrick said, smiling pleasantly. Harry noticed the lovebite he left on his neck not twenty minutes ago and hid his grin in his drink. “Computer science. What about you?”  
Harry’s gaze caught on a man a few seats away from them, who looked painfully familiar. Especially his beak-like nose. Shit.  
“Uh,” Harry said and ducked down. He looked around for an empty table to go to, but spotted Louis, who was not looking too well. Harry frowned and looked back at Patrick.  
“You alright?”  
“I don’t think so,” Harry said, putting his beer on the bar. He hopped to the ground and glanced at Michael, who was, thankfully, chatting with the barman, making Liam look even more like a lost puppy than he usually did.  
“Harry? What’s up?”  
“Sorry. I think Louis isn’t well, I need to go. I’m really sorry man, I’ll see you around, yeah? Thanks for,” Harry wiggled his fingers in little circles, “everything. Sorry again,” he finished lamely, walking backwards. Patrick still looked confused when Harry turned away.  
Niall frowned when he slid back into the booth and examined Louis’ face.  
“Is it his reaction to booze? But I thought it was gone,” Niall said, almost to himself.  
“Looks like it,” Harry said, taking in the red skin and Louis’ tired eyes.  
“Petal, are you okay?” he asked, scooping closer and brushing Louis’ hair back.  
“I feel funny.”  
“Of course you do. Come on, let’s get you home.”  
Harry stood up, and Louis moved towards the end of the bench but stayed seated. Harry checked his forehead and looked at Niall.  
“Would you tell Liam for me?”  
“Of course. Maybe you want Liam to take him back?” Niall asked, handing Harry Louis’ phone from where he dropped it on the bench.  
“No, I’ll worry anyway,” Harry pocketed the phone and looked around. “Have you seen his jacket?”  
Niall looked around and shrugged no.  
“Lou,” Harry said, crouching down so that he was lower than Louis. “Lou, where is your jacket?”  
“I don’t have one.”  
“Alright,” Harry said, taking his own and hiding Louis in it. “Come now, let’s take you to bed, yeah?” Harry said quietly, carefully pulling Louis to his feet. He gave him his forearm to lean onto and nodded goodbye to Niall before turning away. Louis waved at Niall, his weight heavy against Harry’s side.  
“I’ll call you a cab,” Niall said to Harry’s back.  
“Thanks!” Harry said and waved his free hand. They made their way through the tables and people, which suddenly were way too many. Harry tripped over a fallen leather jacket by a table.  
“Sorry,” someone muttered, taking the jacket up, whilst Harry tried to regain his balance with Louis still leaning on to him.  
“Harry?” said someone and Harry looked up. Michael had finally spotted him.  
“What are you doing here? I thought you were on the train home?”  
“Change of plans,” Harry said as politely as he could while Louis was gripping his wrist for balance.  
“You alright?” Louis asked quietly. Harry smiled and pulled open the door, fresh air hitting his hot face.  
“I’ll be fine.” Harry waited for Louis to get out onto a little porch and left the pub right after. Louis leant against the rails and looked at the road. Harry stood up beside him.  
“How do you feel?”  
“I think my blood pressure went down,” Louis said, cuddling further into the jacket. Harry’s phone buzzed with a text from Niall with the taxi's number. “I’m sorry you have to leave because of me.”  
“It’s no problem,” he said, hugging Louis to his chest and resting his chin on top of his head.  
“Your guy sure did look like that was a problem. Or your guys, more like. Was it that Michael bloke?”  
“Forget it. We’ll get you to bed in no time, and I’ll make you tea. How does that sound?”  
“Thank you.”

Harry unlocked the door with his keys before swinging it open and helping Louis in. He probably could have done it alone, but Harry did not want to risk him falling over.  
“Here,” he said, switching on the lights and dropping to his knees to untie Louis’ laces and slide his shoes off, revealing silly red socks, which Harry got him many Christmases ago. Harry smiled at them, but then Louis leant against the wall, and he shot up, quickly pushing off his trainers. “Come on, love,” Harry said, heaving Louis up and putting his arm around his waist.  
They stumbled to Louis’ room where Harry gently lowered him onto the bed.  
“How about you get tucked in and I’ll start some tea?” he asked, kneeling by the bed again. Louis nodded, taking off his sweatshirt.  
In the kitchen, Harry made the tea and then tiptoed back to the room.  
Louis sat propped up against the headboard, blinking slowly. Harry switched on the lights with his elbow, but Louis hissed at the bright lamp, and Harry turned it off again.  
“Sorry,” he said quietly and lowered two cups on the bedside table. Louis took his and gulped down half of his tea.  
“Do you want some water?” Harry asked, brushing Louis’ hair away from his forehead. Louis looked at him, unfocused. “Lou? Water?”  
“No, thank you,” Louis blinked a few times, Harry’s hand still on his forehead. “Could you stay with me for a few minutes? I don’t want to sit alone here.”  
“‘course,” Harry said and got into bed, but stayed on top of the covers, not wanting to get Louis’ bed dirty with his day clothes. He knew Louis’ wouldn’t like that.  
“Here you go,” Louis said with a smile and handed Harry his tea.  
“Thanks. Just how I like it,” he said, and Louis laughed breathily, but then scrunched up his face.  
“It hurts.”  
“Do you want to watch something?”  
“No, the screen is too bright, and bright hurts, too.”  
Harry bit his cheek, trying to think of something to entertain Louis with.  
“Could you read for me?” Louis asked quietly, tentatively, and in the darkness of the room lit only by the street lamp, it sounded intimate in the best possible way.  
“Sure,” Harry said at once. “What would you like?”  
“Alice in Wonderland. It’s on the table.”  
Louis was asleep before Harry reached the end of the first page, and Harry coaxed the cup out of his hands before he got hot tea spilled all over himself. He put the two cups on the floor by the bed and carefully dragged Louis lower, so that his head was on the pillow. Louis cuddled into his blankets, and Harry smiled.  
He heard the flat open, a few quick steps, and Liam slowly opened the doors.  
“Harry? Are you there?”  
“Yeah. He is asleep,” Harry whispered, getting out of bed.  
“Good,” Liam said with relief. Harry reached the door and Liam stepped back to let him out. “Thanks for taking him here.”  
“No problem.” They walked down the small corridor together. “Can you text me how he is in the morning?” Harry said as he put his shoes on. “Or ask him to text me?”  
“Sure,” Liam said.  
“Thanks.”  
Harry took his jacket from the floor, where Louis dropped it off when they entered, and looked at Liam.  
“Take care of him, will you?”  
“Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll make sure he is alright.”

***  
Harry woke up and stared at the ceiling for a little while. The room was full of light – the sun had already risen – and Harry stretched his whole body and let it relax with a content sigh. Saturday; he liked Saturdays.  
He set his feet onto the floor, cracking his neck left and right, and his phone beeped with a message. It was from Louis.  
[5:56 am] Thanks for taking care of me yesterday, princess, I feel loads better now. ;)  
Harry smiled at his phone.  
[5:58 am] You are always welcome, it was no problem.  
He hit send and threw his phone onto the bed before padding out of the room and into the kitchen. There was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and Harry scrunched his nose at them.  
He made himself some fried eggs and tea – he had to have his protein, or else his butterfly effect will be all gone. Harry snorted to himself and sat down to eat.  
When he came back to his room thirty minutes and seven dirty dishes later, munching on chocolate, he found another message from Louis:  
[6:02 am] How about a movie night tomorrow?  
[6:28 am] Sure. I’ll be around at 6?  
[6:29 am] Excellent! Bring smth tasty, please.  
[6:29 am] Will do xx  
He sat down at his desk and his feet hit the bag he left there yesterday. He made a face at it before pulling out his textbooks and laptop. Homework.  
He took his history textbook, opened his laptop, and diligently stared at the two for the next three minutes. He then sighed and hid the horrible book into his desk.  
Instead, he took out his phone, a stack of papers he kept in one of the drawers, and a pen. He opened the notes on his phone, pulled up the lyrics ideas he jot down yesterday on the bus home, and set to work.

Niall knocked on his door four hours later. Harry turned to see him crouched down before the glass.  
“You want some pancakes?” Niall said loudly. Harry gestured for him to come in and Niall opened the doors and shoved his head into the room, squinting against the sunlight. “Or are you on your diet again?”  
Harry stacked his papers together.  
“When did I ever say no to your pancakes?”  
He put the papers into the drawer before turning back to the door.  
“I like the sound of that,” Niall smiled before pulling back into the corridor. The next sentence he said from the kitchen: “Are we doing guitar today?”  
Harry followed him and took a deep breath when he smelled the pancakes.  
“If you are free?” he said, voice high from all the air in his lungs.  
“Of course I’m free,” Niall said, taking out their tea bags. Harry walked to the fridge and pulled out the Greek yogurt.  
“How was Tommo yesterday? I think I fell asleep before you came back.”  
Niall gave him his cup.  
“He is alright.” Harry put a wallop of yoghurt onto the plate. “Had a fever, I think, I gave him some tea and left him to Liam. He texted me in the morning, said he was fine.”  
“You think we should go see him? Bring him oranges or something?” Niall said with genuine concern, which made Harry smile.  
“Oranges? I don’t think they are in season.”  
“I’m trying to be a good mate, is all,” Niall said, munching on his pancake and looking rather offended. Harry cupped his cheek, and Niall quirked an eyebrow at him.  
“Niall, the sweetest Irishman there is.”  
“Piss off,” Niall said through a mouthful, but still managed to look shy. 

After Harry washed the dishes for the second time that day and successfully managed to ignore his history essay, Niall and he were sat in their kitchen again, for their tiny flat did not have a living room. Niall was holding his own guitar, propping it against his legs, while Harry was watching his fingers.  
“You put your index finger here, see?” Niall said, sliding his finger up to the end of the fret. “Remember why?”  
“So it sounds clean? And I should not press too hard, just enough to hold it in place,” Harry tacked on for good measure.  
“That’s my man. Let’s try,” Niall said, giving Harry the guitar. Harry took a deep breath before focusing on his fingers and applying the pressure just right, a small frown on his face. He strung, and the sound came out nice and clean. He smiled.  
“Now go all the way down,” Niall said, nodding. As Harry did it, the sound getting higher and higher, Niall listened carefully.  
“Stop, right here,” Niall said, putting his hand on Harry’s wrist. “On this one,” he said, repositioning Harry’s fingers as they were on the fourth string. “Try again.”  
And so it went for the rest of the day, as Harry learnt more chords and Niall got more and more tired of teaching. They took a few breaks for snacks, and in the end Harry cooked Niall some pasta to say thank you for his patience.  
“You think I did alright?” Harry asked from his place on the bed, where he was sprawled in front of the laptop with a film on. Niall lifted his head up from Harry’s pillow and looked at him, nearly knocking his empty bowl off the bed in the process.  
“Yeah, you are fine, Haz. It takes a long time to learn something new, doesn’t it? We’ll do it again and again till you cover the basics completely.”  
“Thanks for teaching me, Nialler,” Harry said and tickled Niall’s foot.  
“Wanker,” Niall said, sitting up and attacking Harry with tickles of his own, as an adult man he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry knocked on Louis’ door with his free hand, the other gripping a plastic container.   
“Who is there?” he heard Louis say from behind the door.  
“Any guesses?”   
“Oh, I dunno. A thief coming to rid me of my precious possessions?”  
“I doubt all your books constitute a precious possession to a thief. Let me in, I bring food,” Harry said, raising the container up as if Louis could see it.  
“Alright, alright,” Louis said, swinging the door open. He was wearing glasses. “Hello, stranger with food.”   
“Hey,” Harry said as he passed him. “Here,” he handed Louis the container as he toed off his trainers.  
“What have we got here?”  
“Pasta leftovers that I managed to save from Niall,” Harry said, already walking into the flat. “I trust you have the pudding?”   
“You are just as much of a sweet tooth as I am, princess,” Louis said as he entered the kitchen. Harry leant against the doorway and watched him send the pasta into the microwave.  
“Is Liam here? I asked Niall to come, but he couldn’t make it.”  
“Suppose only us two today. Just like the good old times, isn’t it?”  
Harry smiled in lieu of an answer.  
They waited for the beep, then Louis took out the pasta with his hands hidden in his sweater sleeves. Harry plated their food, took the two loaded plates and followed Louis into his room.  
“Did you pick a film to watch?” Harry said, dropping onto Louis’ bed and sitting cross-legged.   
“Couldn’t decide what I was in the mood for. Any ideas?” Louis said, pushing his glasses up his nose. He leant back against the wall with his laptop in his lap.  
“Hmm,” Harry said, tapping his chin with a finger. “Do you want something serious or romantic?”  
“Is that Harry Styles I hear calling romantic comedy not serious?” Louis said, tearing his eyes away from the screen to stare at Harry in mock surprise.  
“Piss off,” Harry said, shoving him in the shoulder. “How about The Notebook?”  
“Again?”  
“What? It‘s a good movie!”  
“Yeah, but not one to watch every what? fortnight?”  
“Na-ah-ah, last time we watched it, it was really hot outside and we were at my mum’s, so it must be almost a year ago.”  
“Yeah, yeah, like you haven’t balled your eyes out to it closed in your room for another five times since then.”  
“Well, you haven’t!”  
“I prefer to go gentle on my tear sockets, I might need them later in life.”  
Harry looked at his plate and pushed his pasta around with his lip out like a child.  
“Still a bloody good movie,” he mumbled and heard Louis sigh beside him. He looked up and saw Louis hovering his mouse at something on the screen.   
“Now I, the older one, may I note,” Louis said, turning to Harry and giving him a stern look, before looking back at the screen, “would propose My Left Foot because I’ve heard it’s hilarious, thought-provoking, and inspiring. But if those of us who are more infantile-”  
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Louis stopped him with a raised finger,  
“If those of us who would rather watch the same movie over and over again would watch that movie another bloody time, I would agree. Because I’m kind and I cannot deny my best mate the pleasure of having a vicarious emotional breakdown through Allie and Noah.”  
Harry felt saliva on his lip and closed his mouth hurriedly, not realising he had it open.   
“Harold?” Louis said, turning to him with a small frown. “What are we watching? Mine or yours?”  
“Let’s do yours for a change. Though may I add,” he said with a raised finger, “that it was me who cooked us dinner.”  
“Duly noted,” Louis said, nodding solemnly.

An hour and a half later, Louis closed his laptop and returned his head to Harry’s chest, gripping the tea tighter with his hands.  
“See, I told you it was a good movie,” he said quietly, taking a sip. Harry hummed back, drawing idle circles on Louis’ shoulder. He let his head rest against the wall behind him.  
“What do you mean, ‘hmm’?” Louis asked without looking at him, and Harry smiled.  
“It was alright, especially for a non-romance.”  
“The world is not built on romantic comedies, princess.”  
“Of course. It also has Disney movies in it,” Harry conceded and almost heard Louis roll his eyes.  
“You are insufferable.”  
“So I’ve been told. By you.”  
They chuckled quietly and heard the front door open.  
“Must be Liam,” Louis said. He took Harry’s empty cup from his hands and put it on the bed side table. Harry cuddled him closer with both arms.  
“Are you sure you are fine? Your fever is gone?” Harry asked after a few minutes of silence.  
“Yeah, I'm good. You can ask Liam if you want to – I was sleeping well all weekend.”  
“Good,” Harry said quietly, squeezing him for a second. “It makes me sad when people are sick.”  
Louis just sighed in agreement, and they sat in silence for some more. Harry cast around for a more cheerful topic and remembered he wanted to tell Louis about how he started learning to play guitar recently, but when he opened his mouth to speak Louis said:  
“Harry?”  
“Yes?” Harry said, pushing his thoughts of music aside. Louis was tapping Harry’s knee gently while watching his own fingers.  
“Can I have your advice about something?”  
“Sure, what is it?”  
“I think I like someone.”  
“Oh,” Harry said and then smiled. “That’s lovely. Who is the lucky one?”  
“It’s that girl, Eleanor, she is in my Literature class this semester. She is very nice to me, I helped her with classes a couple of times.”  
“Of course you did.”   
“Shush. So, she… I think she may like me as well, so I wanted to ask about... like, how do I?..”  
“Woo someone?” Harry asked, amused. Louis raised his head, and they looked at each other.  
“Like, how do I approach her? She mentioned she is staying here for the summer for her job at the store, but the semester is ending, and I don’t know if I will have a chance to see her in the next few months. Like it would be strange if I seek her out, right? She’ll think I’m creepy or something.”  
“Lou, take it easy. You don’t have to tell her you like her right off the bat, just ask her out somewhere nice. Like a cafe or a bar.”  
“Do you know a good place?”  
Harry thought for a moment.  
“Yeah, there is a cafe downtown with an open terrace, should be pretty nice for the first date.”  
Louis blushed and returned his head to Harry’s chest. Harry smiled and kissed his head.  
“How quickly children grow,” he muttered.  
“Fuck off,” Louis mumbled, and Harry chuckled. After another minute Louis asked again:  
“So I just come up to her and ask her out? What if she says no? And do we have to kiss on the first date? And what if she finds out I’ve never snogged anybody and thinks I’m a laugh?”  
“You worry too much. If you feel like she likes you, she would agree. And if she is nice she would not laugh at you, Lou. She isn’t there to hurt you, is she?”  
“I suppose no,” Louis said with a sigh. “What about kissing though? How do you know when it’s the right time?”  
“I think you just go with the moment. If it’s a date, probably at the end of it she may want a kiss, but you’ll know if she does, don’t worry.”  
“But how do I know? Would she, like, lean in or something?”  
“Louis, it’s not math, it just happens. Just try to relax and go with what she does, okay? If you tell her you never dated, she’ll understand.”  
“Yeah and run away from me because I’m pathetic.”  
“Why are you pathetic?” Harry asked, listening to the pleasant tattoo of the rain that had just started.  
“Well, everyone is dating and I’m still so inexperienced in all of it. Like, aren’t you supposed to know all this stuff by twenty?”  
“Depends on a person. And not everyone is dating, you heard Niall. Plus Liam doesn’t have anyone, right? And I don’t have a relationship either.”  
“Yeah, but you still hang out with people and hook up with boys. And Liam dated Sofia last year, and Niall must have had someone, too. I’m the oldest of you all and the least experienced one.”   
“Petal, hey, look at me,” Harry whispered, and, reluctantly, Louis met his eye. He looked sad. “First of all, you are only a few months older than us. Second of all, you date someone when you date someone, okay? Not when you think it is high time to get into dating. It just means you have not yet met someone you wanted to go out with, is all, yeah? And nobody cares if you have experience or not.”  
Louis gave him his second straight face of the night.  
“Well, some might, okay. But if somebody, like Eleanor, if they like you, it would be enough. It’s not like having dated someone before makes you eligible for a relationship.”  
Louis squinted at him for a few seconds, and Harry caught a glimpse of a smile. He grinned.  
“Come on, Lou. Do you have a class with her this week?”  
“Yeah. Yeah, Monday afternoon, actually.”  
“So, will you ask her out?”  
“I guess so,” Louis said, shrugging, but with more spark in his eye now. Harry grinned wider.  
“That’s my Louis.”   
Harry didn’t tell Louis about his guitar lessons that night. He didn’t want to take away any of the significance of Louis deciding to date someone.   
Only Harry couldn’t help the sad feeling in his chest. He thought how much less time Louis would have to spend with him now, and it made him a little sad. But, after all, Harry reasoned, Louis was not his to keep. Plus, they have been friends for many years now, and Harry couldn’t imagine anything powerful enough to ruin their friendship.

***  
Wednesday afternoon found Harry leaving the university building when he saw something that stopped him in his tracks. There, not twelve feet from him, stood Louis with a girl. He was holding her hand and saying something, smiling against the sun. The girl looked at her feet, an identical smile on her face, and nodded at something Louis was saying. She was taller than him, with long dark hair, and she was very slim, which looked strange next to a smaller Louis. Harry even thought he looked more delicate than her. That must be Eleanor. And it looked like Louis did gather the courage to ask her out. Hell, it even looked like they were dating already. Harry’s heart clenched. That’s it, he thought to himself. No more movie nights, no more pubs on Fridays, no more study sessions.   
He took a deep breath and turned away, staring at the entrance but not really seeing anything. Then someone approached him.  
“Harry? You alright there”  
Harry blinked a few times and discerned a certain Liam Payne amongst the sea of students. He nodded, plastering a smile on.  
“Yeah, just zoned out for a moment. Are you going home?”  
“No, still got a class, and then gotta go to the cafe, got a shift today. How have you been?” Liam asked, eyes earnest. Harry felt a bit uneasy still, he could never quite get it right with Liam.  
“I’m fine, I guess, nothing new. How is Louis?” he said casually, or tried to, at least. “Haven’t had a chance to see him since the weekend.”  
“Oh,” Liam said, turning around, and Harry knew he must be looking at a very particular couple. “He started dating Eleanor, a really nice girl, didn’t he tell you? They are over there, look,” Liam said and pointed at them, and Harry had to pretend to see them all over again.  
“Yeah, they look good together, don’t they?” he said, putting his hands into his jean’s pockets.   
“They do. They went on a date yesterday, and I think he really liked it, actually. I’m sure he will tell you all about it the first chance he gets,” Liam said with a warm smile, nudging Harry gently with his elbow.  
“Yeah, I better be ready,” Harry said, about to turn away again, when he let out an involuntary “oh” and felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Louis stood on his tippy toes and kissed Eleanor on the cheek. She gave him a peck as well before stepping away and waving at him. Louis watched her go, as she walked backwards, sending air kisses his way. Harry swallowed with difficulty.  
“He is a fool in love, isn’t he,” Liam muttered and, before Harry could react, he shouted: “Hey, Lou!”  
Louis turned towards them and his somewhat dreamy smile broadened.  
“Were you watching me here like some creeps?” he said in lieu of a greeting as he approached them.  
“Couldn’t help ourselves,” Liam said. “How is Eleanor?”  
Louis blushed a little and glanced back at where she went with another one of those dreamy smiles. Harry bit his cheek.  
“Yeah, she is alright. Was late for class today, ‘cause I saw her home at about two a.m., but she says it’s fine.”  
“Look at you killing that dating game,” Liam said, clapping him on the shoulder. Louis grinned. He turned to Harry, who in turn hasted to put on a smile for him.  
“Glad you asked her out. Wasn’t that hard, was it?”   
“Yeah, it was alright. Thank you for that cafe, by the way, we really enjoyed it.”  
“No problem. I’ll let you know the next cute place I find out about.”  
“Thanks, princess,” Louis said, smiling. He didn’t wear glasses to class, only at home or for their library study sessions, and Harry liked how he could see the eye crinkles without the glasses.  
“Any time, petal,” Harry said quietly and felt a little warmer on the inside.  
“Okay, lads, gotta go to class. Harry, I’ll see you around, yeah? Bye, Lou,” Liam said the last words over his shoulder, already speeding off to the building.  
“Bye!” they called back to him and waved. When Liam disappeared, Harry turned to Louis.  
“You heading home?” he asked when they started towards the bus stop.  
“I’m afraid not, I have to go to my internship. Got two days left there,” Louis said, looking up at the sky with a happy expression on his face, and Harry realised Louis could not care less about his newspaper interneship he fought so hard to get all those months ago.   
“So, dating, huh?” Harry said, hip checking Louis to bring him back to earth.  
“Yeah,” Louis said, looking at Harry now. “Never thought it is actually so nice. Eleanor is really sweet. We talked all night yesterday and never ran out of things to say, can you imagine?”  
“That’s nice, isn’t it?” Harry said, smiling at Louis’ happiness. They could see the bus stop now.  
“It really is. And thank you for the place and everything.”  
“Drop it. It’s not like I arranged anything, you did it all,” Harry said and searched for a change of topic. “Was the food to your satisfaction?” he asked in a posh tone which never failed to make Louis snort.   
Well, there is a first for everything, it seemed. Louis did not as much as smiled this time.  
“Oh, I... I don’t remember, actually. But I think so,” Louis said, nodding with a frown on his face. “At least I don’t remember it being horrible, so must have been pretty decent, yeah,” he nodded again, as if persuading himself.   
“I see you were engrossed in the conversation.”  
Louis just smiled and shrugged, and Harry hugged him by the shoulders for a few seconds, bringing him close.  
“I’m happy for you, Lou. Just please don’t forget me, alright? We still have our study session tomorrow, right?”  
“Oh, yeah, yeah, of course,” Louis said as Harry let him go. They approached the bus stop now, joining the small crowd of students. Louis looked down at his feet, and Harry felt that something was off.  
“Lou? What is it?”  
Louis glanced up and then back down at his shoes, reciting at top speed,  
“I promised Eleanor to study together tomorrow afternoon.”  
Harry’s heart sank at the news.   
“Oh. Of course, I understand,” he said then, nodding at someone behind Louis’ back.  
“You wouldn’t mind, then?”   
“Yeah, of course, Lou, I get it.”  
“Excellent! I’ll bring El tomorrow with me then! Four p.m. as planned, at the library, our table?”  
“Wh- Yeah, yeah, sounds good,” Harry said, bewildered and frowning. Louis hugged him briefly, and Harry barely remembered to hug him back.  
“Thanks for doing it, princess. I’m sure you’ll get on with each other,” Louis said, radiating happiness. Harry smiled and saw Louis’ bus approaching.  
“Sure we will,” he said, and Louis gave him a thumbs up before allowing the crowd to sweep him into the bus. He waved at Harry from inside, and Harry waved back, feeling lost and stupid. 

Next day found Harry at the library earlier than usual, for he did not want to walk in and see Louis and Eleanor huddled together and giggling at something. So he was sat by the window, rows of books to each side of him, typing away his essay. He heard voices growing louder and louder and glanced at the clock behind him. It was four already, and Harry was about to meet Eleanor. He took a deep breath and braced himself.   
“Hey there!” he whisper-shouted to them, and Louis turned, smiling. He was holding Eleanor’s hand.  
“Harry! I thought you’d be late,” Louis said as they approached the table. Eleanor stood right behind him, caressing Louis’ hand with her thumb. Harry hoped she didn’t spot him looking.  
“I wanted to have a head start on my essay. You must be the Eleanor Louis talked so much about?” Harry said, rising a little from his seat and offering his hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you,” he said as they shook them.  
“Nice to meet you, too, Harry. Louis told me you’ve been friends since you were children?” she said and smiled at Louis as he pulled out a chair for her.   
“That’s right. Our families live right next to each other. Been mates ever since we moved to Donny,” Harry said and raised his eyebrows at Louis.  
“Yeah, I got friends with Harry’s sister, Gemma, first. We went to the same class. But then I met Harry, and it all started.”  
“That’s so lovely! I wish I had a friend like that. You must know all each other’s secrets?” Eleanor said, winking at Harry, and Harry really wished he could feel warm at that, but he didn’t. In fact, he felt rather uneasy.  
“I hope we do,” he only said and opened his laptop again. “Alright, time to study.”  
There was a second when both Louis and Eleanor stared at him, Louis frowning and Eleanor looking just a bit perplexed. They exchanged a glance but other than that did not ask any questions at his sudden thrive for knowledge.   
Harry tried to focus on his essay, which he cleverly titled Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood, even though it was not, strictly speaking, on dragon blood; he really did try to concentrate but Eleanor proved to be a distraction. Not her whole persona, no – it was her nails. She seemed to be in a habit of tapping the table when she was thinking, and her red nail polish did an excellent job of pulling Harry’s attention away from the screen. Louis kept sneaking glances at Eleanor, a smile appearing each time he did so, and Harry felt unease build up in his stomach each time. When the clock struck five, he closed his laptop again, causing the other two to look up in confusion.  
“I’ll go have a breather. Please don’t snog too loudly – they’ll kick us out,” he said, winking at them as he rose from the chair. Louis blushed and glanced at Eleanor, who just laughed and waved a hand at Harry.  
“We’ll try our best.”  
He saluted her, smiled at Louis, and left them behind as quickly as possible without looking suspicious. The minute he left the library, he called Niall.  
“What’s up?”  
“Listen, I’m stuck at the library with Lou and his girlfriend and I really need you to call me and tell me our dog needs to see a doctor or something.”  
“We don’t have a dog, H.”  
“You get the point, please!” Harry whisper-shouted and looked behind his shoulder.  
“Alright, alright. I’ll call you back in a minute, yeah?”  
“Thanks a million, Nialler.”  
Harry returned to his place and found Louis and Eleanor giggling at something on her phone.  
“That’s when Button saw himself in the mirror for the first time,” she was saying, and Harry glimpsed a clip of a cat on her phone. “Oh, Harry, look, it’s my kitten,” she said, turning the screen towards him. Harry squinted at the phone and smiled.  
“She is very cute. What’s her name a-”  
His phone buzzed.  
“Oh, sorry,” he said, raising his phone. “It’s Niall, must be something serious,” he muttered, swiping the screen to answer. He covered it with his hand and looked at the two one more time, muttering, “sorry,” for good measure, before walking a few feet away, so they could still hear him. “Hello?” he said.  
“So the house is on fire, we are drowning our neighbours downstairs, right, which is impossible because we live on the first floor, and Sirius, our big black dog, really wants to eat, and I’m currently laying on my bed playing FIFA, so if you don’t come over right now, we are doomed.”  
Harry bit his lips very hard not to laugh at the even tone of Niall’s words and made sure to nod with a frown.  
“Shit, Nialler. Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Harry said, walking the few steps back to their table and putting his phone away. Louis looked concerned.  
“Everything alright, p- Harry?”  
“I think it’s nothing serious, but Nialler asked me to come home ‘cause he is busy and our landlord wants to see us,” Harry said, packing the laptop and notebook into his bag.  
“Oh dear. You sure it's alright?” Louis said, rising from his chair, too.   
“Yeah, please don’t worry. It’s probably something minor, like neighbours complaining about loud music after hours or something,” Harry said, shouldering his backpack and shoving on his snapback. He looked at Louis for a second, and there it was, his best mate whom he knew since he was six. He smiled at him sincerely this time. Louis smiled back uncertainly, shyly even. Harry turned to Eleanor:  
“Take care of him, will you?” he said to her as he rounded the table. “He is allergic to oranges and can’t sleep with the lights on,” he added, already heading off. Eleanor still looked perplexed but nodded, and Louis just shouted as quietly as he could:  
“Text me when you know what it is, will you?”  
“Will do!” Harry said with a salute.  
He left the library as quick he could and ran the second the doors flew shut behind him. He stopped when he turned the corner and saw his bus stop, leant against a library wall, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, his backpack grazing the ground. It was another sunny day, and Harry could feel the afternoon sun hot on his shoulders and his face.   
He felt guilty for lying to Louis, but his feeling of unease at being there with them both was stronger. Harry hoped that would assuage his guilt, but it didn’t. His stomach felt heavy with it, and he felt icky all over. Must be the heat, he told himself.  
“Wanker,” he said out loud, running his hand down his face. He looked at his feet.  
ILouis and Harry never lied to each other, that’s the thing; at least Harry never lied to Louis. But lately it’s been happening more and more. Louis didn’t tell Harry about Eleanor right after he got a date with her, Harry didn’t tell him about doing music, and now this. Today was the worst of all because Harry here did it deliberately. He will make it up to Louis somehow. He’ll snatch him out of Eleanor’s grip and take him out to a pub, and they would set it all right.  
Harry walked to his bus and texted Louis while he was still on the way home:  
Everything is fine, as promised:)  
PS do you want to go to a pub this friday?  
He didn’t get a reply till he was walking home on his own two.  
Sorry, H, I don’t think I can. El and I are going to the movies. Another time, yeah?   
Harry stopped and closed his eyes, counting to ten. He let out a sigh and plastered a smile as if Louis could see him. Maybe then the text would feel more genuine.  
Sure. Say hi to El xx  
He entered their flat and heard Niall playing FIFA in his own room.  
“I’m home,” he mumbled and went straight for his room, dragging the backpack on the floor.  
“Alright?” Niall asked without leaving his FIFA.  
“Never better,” he said and closed his door. Niall did not come in that day.  
Harry lay down on his bed, clothes and all, and stared at the ceiling. He felt offended, he felt as if Eleanor was taking Louis from him. He was so used to the thought of Louis’ being his best mate that it felt painful now. As if someone had taken his room in his parent’s house.   
The thing that hurt him most was that Eleanor was not outright horrible. She was a nice girl – flirty, funny, pretty – with her bright red nails. Harry could see them when he closed his eyes, could see Louis sneaking glances at her with that stupid smile on his face he seemed to reserve only for her. He knew that smile: Louis used to look at him that way, back when they lived in Doncaster.   
He looked at him that way when Harry climbed a tree in his mum’s backyard and waved at Louis to follow him.  
“Are you out of your mind?” Louis hissed, looking around to make sure there were no adults around. “Harry, you are going to break your neck!”  
“No I won’t! Come on, Louis, climb with me! It’s fun!”  
Louis swallowed and looked terrified, but when Harry grinned at him and waved again, he gripped the trunk.  
That happened on the second week after Harry moved in.  
Another time, years later, Harry was coming back to Louis' room from the loo and paused in the doorway. Louis sat at his desk with his back to the door pouring over textbooks, Harry’s empty chair to his right.   
Harry could hear two babies crying in another room and Johannah’s fast feet. He stepped into Louis’ room swiftly and left the door ajar, trying to make as little sound as possible. Louis was reading with a pencil in hand, pausing to scribble notes into the notebook, music playing in his earbuds. Harry slinked as quietly as he could up to him. When he was only a few feet away, he crouched down and sat down on the floor, turning his back to Louis. He bit down his grin, imagining Louis’ reaction, and counted to three. He took a deep but quiet breath and lay on the floor, his head coming level with Louis’ chair. Louis frowned at the movement but then jumped, his hand covering his heart.  
“Harry!” he said, snatching his earbuds out of his ears. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”  
Harry giggled, grinning like an idiot. Louis was taking deep breaths, and closed his eyes for a second.  
“How about we take a break?” Harry said, bringing his right arm behind his head and tapping his tummy with the fingers of his left hand. Louis looked down at him, pushing his glasses up his nose.  
“Didn’t you just have one?”  
“Well, loo is a necessity, it was not my choice to have it.”  
“Does it matter?”  
“Of course it matters! You don’t count sick leave as your vacation, do you?”  
Louis squinted at him, look calculating.   
“If you put it that way,” he condescended. “You know, with your ability to argue in support of your breaks, you should be writing killer essays without my help.”  
Harry bit his cheek and looked away from him and up at the wooden ceiling. Louis looked up as well.  
“No,” Harry said then.  
“Pardon?” Louis frowned down at him. Harry sighed like he was explaining the most obvious thing and looked Louis right in the eye:  
“I can’t do school without your help. You help me pull my thoughts together.”  
Louis looked away, biting his lips, and Harry watched him with a soft smile and a raised eyebrow.  
“What?”  
“Nothing,” Louis said at once, looking back at him. “So what, your thoughts run away from you when you do your homework?”  
“Exactly! Like cockroaches when you switch the lights on.”  
“Ew! Don’t talk to me about cockroaches, please,” Louis said, his face scrunched up in disgust, and shook with his whole body. “They are disgusting.”  
“Well, my thoughts aren’t disgusting, I hope, but you get the point. You just ask me questions about the topic, and it really helps. So if it wasn’t for you, I would flunk every subject,” Harry said with a shrug. Louis shook his head, sighing.  
“Come up, the floor is cold,” he said as he gave Harry his hand.  
Harry opened his eyes when he heard Niall drop something in the kitchen and curse.  
“You alright?” Harry shouted, sitting up in his bed.  
“‘m fine!” Niall shouted back, and Harry laid back down. “Stupid cupboard doors,” he heard Niall say quieter and smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day Harry was at the pub on his own, Niall having left for his friend’s concert downtown before Harry made it home. He spent a long time getting ready that day: his hair was down loose, curls tickling his neck; he chose a shirt instead of a tee this time, and in attempt to make it look his own Harry left it unbuttoned all the way down to below his pecks; his jeans were tight as usual, but he changed his trainers for the only non-sporty shoe he owned – a brown chelsie. He looked at himself in the mirror behind the bar, feeling a bit out of his comfort zone. He didn’t dress like that usually and felt a bit exposed with his pecs out for everyone to see.  
“Nice muscles, man,” said the barman and Harry looked up.  
“Oh, Zayn, hi,” Harry said, remembering the name from the previous time. “How is it going?”  
Zayn shrugged, measuring out vodka into a glass. He shook it so the ice cubes clinged.  
“As always. You alone today?”  
“Yeah, others couldn’t make it.”  
“How come?” Zayn asked, dropping his glass and frowning at Harry.  
“What, you miss Liam already?”  
“Who?”  
“Liam? The lad who talked to you last time we were here? Big brown eyes and a smile?”  
“Erm-” Zayn said, scratching his head and scrunching up his nose in concentration. “I suppose?..” he trailed off, concentrating on making the cocktail instead. He gave it to his customer and came back to Harry. “It’s just, there are so many of them trying to flirt with me, you know? Haven’t quite learnt all my admirers yet,” he said with a shrug and an apologetic smile. Harry smirked.  
“Makes sense,” he only said, giving Zayn a once over. “You remembered me though?”  
“Well, you are a bit hard to miss, aren’t you?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“What do I mean?” Zayn said, mocking concentration. “Well, let us see. Everyone is drooling over you here. Plus Niall talked about you and your friend, so I remembered that. Louis, was his name?”  
“Yep.”  
“He got a fever last time, right? Is he still ill?”  
“Nah, just got himself a missis,” Harry said to his glass and felt Zayn look at him.  
“Were you two dating or?..”  
Harry looked up at him.  
“No, no,” he said, laughing at the thought. “Lou is like a brother, we grew up together. It’s just that we used to go out all the time, but now he is not, like, available. You know, relationships need time and all that, so he went out with her instead.”  
“Makes sense,” Zayn said and glanced at the line. “Shit,” he said, already stepping away. “Sorry, mate, gotta go. See you around, yeah?”  
“Thanks for listening,” Harry said quietly and looked at his pint again, swirling the beer inside and watching the foam swoosh.   
Dating Louis? That’s funny. Like the it-is-never-going-to-happen kind of funny. Though Louis must be pretty nice to be going out with, Harry thought. He is gentle, and attentive, and kind. They could have long conversations at nights, they could walk the streets at night till the sun rose, they could go on dates to cute cafes. Plus their families already know each other and were actual friends, so Harry would not have to worry about being accepted by them. Not that Harry ever did have to, he never dated properly, did he?  
He sighed and dropped his forehead on his folded forearms. He should probably just go home and try to catch some sleep. Wallowing at the pub was not a fun way to spend a night. He sat upright again, gulped down his bear and turned on the stool to hop off when someone said to him:  
“Hey, can I get you a drink?”  
Harry looked at the man, frowning.   
“Pardon?” Harry said, turning fully back.  
“Can I get you a drink? Or were you leaving already?”   
“I...” Harry glanced at the doors and then at the street through the windows. It looked lonely out there. “No, actually. I would love a drink,” he said as he looked at the stranger again. He smiled his best smile, leaning against the bar on one elbow, so that his shirt would open more. “A drink from you, I mean. I’m Harry, by the way.”   
“Really? I’m Harold, Harry for short,” Harold-slash-Harry said through a warm smile. “Well, nice to meet you, namesake. What can I get you?”  
“I’m actually just Harry, not Harold. And I would love a tequila, please.”  
Harry watched him while he was making the order. He was taller than him, probably even a bit older – he didn’t look like a student – with short dark hair brushed back, heavy eyebrows and a slightly crooked nose. He was wearing a dark grey t-shirt and plain blue jeans, but they looked expensive. He also looked like he was boxing a lot.  
“Hey, Harold, do you box?” Harry asked, tapping him on the shoulder.  
“Why?” the man asked, quirking up an eyebrow and smiling. His eyes looked kind. He handed Harry his drink, holding a whisky in his other hand, and nodded at an empty table.  
“You just look like you do,” Harry said with a shrug and sipped at his drink before taking a seat.  
“I do karate, actually.”  
“Oh, nice. I’ve only heard that you’ve got open hips if you do karate. Is that so?”  
“Correct. Any other guesses?”  
Harry gave him another once over and looked Harold back in the eye.  
“Well, you are not a student and your clothes look expensive. So you must make a good income, but you aren’t old enough to be somebody’s boss, so my guess you have a company which you inherited from your dad.”  
Harold chuckled, shaking his head.  
“I do earn enough, that’s true, but I did not take over from my dad, no. I’m an architect, actually.”  
“Oh,” Harry said for the upteenth time. “That’s- must be a very interesting job. You went to art school as a kid?”  
“I did, actually. But what about you? Are you a student?”  
And so they talked. Harold bought Harry another tequila, and another one, and then vodka with soda; and all this time they kept talking. Harry liked him, he seemed genuine and warm. And he didn’t look like he just wanted to spend a night with Harry, which was nice for a change, though Harry would not complain if he did. Harold was fit.  
“So,” Harry said, thoughts swarming in his brain like bees after a long day – though Harry never saw tired bees, come to think of it – and he looked up at Harold. Harry propped his chin on his forearms, and was diligently raising his eyebrows so that his eyelids wouldn’t fall down and he could still see the man. Harold, which was beyond Harry’s understanding, did not look as drunk as he should have done. He propped his chin against his hand, too, and was watching Harry with the same warm smile which opened Harry up more than any drink could. “Are we fucking today?” Harry said, genuinely interested, but he thought his words came out a bit sloppy because he could not fully open his mouth to articulate the words properly. Not that it would really help, he thought to himself and chuckled, hiding his face in his forearms.  
“What’s so funny?”  
“Nothing, just-” Harry said as he shook his head and raised it up. He sighed. “Just a thought.”  
Harold continued to look at him but did not ask more questions. Harry gathered his thoughts again.  
“Are we fucking, then? Mine should be empty, though I bet you have a nicer flat, which at least doesn’t have glass in the bedroom door.”  
“A house actually, but I don’t think it’s a good idea, Harry. You are very drunk and you need to sleep. You wake up early on Saturdays to write, remember?”  
“How do you know?” Harry asked, frowning and raising his head higher.  
“You told me about an hour ago.”  
“I did? What else did I tell you?”   
Harold chortled.  
“Don’t worry, I still don’t have your number or your address.”  
“Good,” Harry said automatically, though it wasn’t what he worried about. Seeing his unease, Harold elaborated:  
“We just talked about your classes, how you can’t get on with Liam, how Eleanor has red nail polish that you like and hate at the same time, and about a time when you scared Louis by lying down at his feet when you were studying,” he finished, bending a finger with every point. “Louis is your childhood friend?”  
“Yeah, best mates since six,” Harry said automatically. The thought of Louis sobered him up and he palmed the table top looking for his phone and knocking over an empty glass in the process.  
“Careful,” Harold said, catching it. Harry finally reached his phone and squinted at the time. It was past one in the morning. “Do you want to go home?” Harold asked, standing up.  
“Yeah,” Harry said, rising up as well and avoiding his eyes. “Sorry about earlier, I’m usually more subtle,” he said as he scratched his temple.  
“It’s alright. I just don’t want you thinking I sat with you because I wanted to take you home, okay?”  
Harry stared at him for a second and felt a little lump in his throat, which he did not know the reason for. What was with him and all those emotions lately?  
“Thanks,” he said, voice cracking. He took in a deep breath but couldn’t breathe in properly, his throat was so constricted.   
“Bud, you alright?” Harold asked and stepped closer, squeezing his shoulder gently.  
Harry looked up but all he could see were dark figures against the yellow lights of the pub. He couldn’t even hear the music anymore. He dropped his head and wiped away the tears.   
“What the hell, why am I crying? I swear I’m not usually like this,” he said, words verging on hysterical. “I’m fun, and I don’t mope like that, ever, I swear!”  
“ ‘tis alright,” Harold said, hugging him. He ran his hand up and down Harry’s back soothingly. Harry hugged him back and could not help his tears anymore. He was outright weeping in the middle of a half-empty pub.  
“I’m so sorry,” Harry said with a sniff and Harold just hugged him closer.  
“Just let it out, bud, come on. It’s alright, men cry sometimes, too. It’s just got a bit too much, yeah?” he said quietly into Harry’s hair, while Harry could only nod.  
“Thank you.”  
After about a minute Harry gathered himself, straightened up and wiped at his eyes.  
“Come on, let’s go clean you up,” Harold said, guiding him to the bathroom with a barely-there touch to his shoulder blades.  
“Thanks mum,” Harry said, managing a small smile, and Harold smiled wide and sure.  
“Come on,” he said again, holding the doors open for Harry.   
He waited by the door as Harry washed his face with cold water. When Harry attempted to wipe his face dry with his sleeve, Harold tapped him on the shoulder.  
“Here,” he said as he handed him a handkerchief, and Harry stared at it for a moment.  
“You’ve got a handkerchief?”  
“Yep.”  
“What for?”  
“For when Harry needs to wipe his face with it.”  
Harry smiled, taking it and patting his skin dry. He felt like he did not have his act together at all – like he was five and Harold was his older brother.  
“Erm,” Harry said, looking at the wet handkerchief, uncertainly. “Do you want me to wash it for you? I’m just not familiar with the handkerchief etiquette, I’m sorry.”  
Harold chuckled and took it from him, putting it into his jean pocket.  
“I’m afraid I can’t entrust you with my precious friend, Harry. Handkerchiefs are rare, can’t afford to part with one,” he said, nodding towards the door, and Harry followed him, feeling infinitely grateful.  
“You are really cool, you know?” Harry said as they put on their jackets by the door.  
“Am I, now? Was it the handkerchief?” Harold asked with his eyebrows raised. Harry giggled, feeling lighter with it.  
“No, but it added you some points,” he said as he now held the doors open for him. Harold bowed to him before he exited, and Harry giggled again. They walked down the steps together. “Just in general, I like you.”  
“That much I gathered.”  
“No, I mean not just in that way,” Harry said, remembering his embarrassing question. “And I’m sorry for being so straightforward before.”  
“ ‘tis alright.”  
“Yeah, I just meant- Like, you listened to me and you don’t even know me, and thank you for your patience.”  
“It comes with age, don’t worry,” Harold said, clapping Harry briefly on the shoulder. He checked his phone and looked at Harry again.  
“Our cab must be here in a minute. We’ll get you home first, okay?”  
“You don’t have to, I’m sober enough, I promise.”  
“It will just make me sleep better if I do.”  
Harry smiled, feeling shy.  
“Thank you.”  
“Oh, here it comes, come on,” Harold said, stepping up to the car.   
He held the door open for Harry, and the latter got in. When they were driving, Harry turned away from the window and frowned at him.  
“Harold, mate, how old are you exactly?”  
“Thirty-two.”  
Harry stared at him, eyes wide. He must have looked pretty comical because Harold snorted.  
“What? You thought I was nineteen?”  
“No, but- What moisturizer are you using, again?”  
Harold just laughed at that, and Harry grinned, proud of his joke.  
“Well, you are not old enough to be my dad, so that’s comforting.”  
“Thanks, Harry.”  
“Why did you come to the pub though? Alone?”  
“Just wanted some air, was working on that one project for the last two weeks, needed to take my mind off things,” Harold said with a shrug.  
“You aren’t dating anyone, are you?”  
“No, Harry, I’m single.”  
“Thank god,” Harry muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. His alcohol-infused brain did not particularly agree with riding.   
“It’s alright, bud. You are hot, I can’t deny you that.”  
“Please don’t. You own a fucking handkerchief, I can’t sleep with a man like that.”  
“Poor me,” Harold said with a deep sigh, and the car stopped. Harry looked at him, feeling better than he did all week.  
“Don’t worry, you’ll find yourself someone with a handkerchief, and you two will live your happily ever after,” Harry said, clapping him on the knee gently. Harold smiled at him and fluffed up his hair.  
“Take care of yourself, Harry, alright?”  
Harry nodded and opened the door.  
“Thank you. Thank you for everything.”  
“We Harrys gotta help each other, right?”  
“That’s right. Good luck finding a handkerchief owner,” Harry said as he stepped out. He bent down to look at Harold, which only prompted the latter to chuckle and shoo him away.  
“Get lost, drunkhead.”  
Harry watched him drive away with a dreamy smile; he waved at the car and saw Harold waving back with his hand out of the window.   
***  
Harry woke up before dawn next day, feeling tired yet wide awake. His head was heavy, but when he closed his eyes, he wanted to open them right away. He sighed and sat upright, feeling a tad dizzy, like it always happened after having little sleep.   
He ruffled up his hair, thinking about what happened a few hours ago. He probably should have taken Harold’s number, even if just to hang out. Maybe he would meet him another time in that pub. He remembered Louis’ name which sounded strange from Harold, a total stranger, and felt bitter sadness tug at his stomach.   
He reached for his phone and pulled open a chat with Louis.  
How about studying today? Or just hanging out? Haven’t talked to you alone for ages. xx  
Harry threw the phone on the pillow and got up, stretching and yawning. He should probably have some breakfast, or a very late dinner, for that matter. He glanced at his screen again: it was 5 in the morning, which meant he got at least three hours of sleep done. Harry was about to leave the room when a beep made him look at his phone for the third time.  
Sure! El is going to her friend’s today, so I am free. Would 2 pm work for you? I still wanted to catch some sleep :)  
He stared at the screen for a second, not knowing whether he should be happy about finally seeing Louis on his own or sad that Louis had probably stayed up because of Eleanor all night. He bit his lip till it hurt him enough to shake off the daze.  
See you in the library at 2 pm, please don’t be sleepy xx  
He entered the kitchen, failing to calm his thoughts. He took out eggs and poured oil into the frying pan, thinking of how late Louis stayed up with Eleanor. Hell, he was always so protective of his sleeping schedule, he wouldn’t even let Harry stay up in the pub past midnight when it used to be just the two of them. Harry watched the eggs harden with a bitter feeling in his chest. The bitterness was heavy and seemed to be spreading through his whole body – one more minute and Harry would be able to taste it.  
He plated his breakfast and shoved it down without tasting, still standing by the cupboards in the dimly lit kitchen. The sun started to rise, lightening the small patch of sky between the two houses. He watched it, chewing mechanically. How come his best mate treated him worse than a stranger? How come his best mate ditched him, and Harold held him through his tears? What was Louis even doing with her that late? Were they making out? He dropped his fork at the thought that Louis might have had sex that night. Harry looked at the remaining eggs on the floor and blinked.   
It was none of his business. None. N-o-n-e. Yet he couldn’t chew through the last of his eggs and had to spit them into the trash bin before cleaning the floor and setting the dishes into the sink. He left the kitchen and less than a minute later he was already scribbling away lyrics, largely gibberish – anything to get his mind off Louis.  
He stopped only when he heard Niall cooking breakfast in the kitchen. He quickly put in his earbuds without even turning the music on, and when Niall came in to offer him pancakes, Harry made as if he couldn’t hear him.  
The second Niall closed the doors, Harry took out the earbuds and thrust them on the floor. He fisted his hands in his hair and scrunched up his face, tightening every muscle in his body and relaxing. That did not help, though. He sobbed without any tears, the sound loud in his ears, and felt terrified that Niall might hear him. He froze, listening to what Niall was doing. He heard footsteps and felt his heartbeat pick up. Next second Niall knocked gently but didn’t open the door.  
“Your pancakes are in the pan, H. If you need to talk, I’m in my room, okay?”  
“Yeah, okay,” Harry said with relief. “Thank you!” he tacked on when he heard Niall’s footsteps retrieve.  
He took a deep breath and looked around the room. He could do with some tidying up later on, but he had to eat first. So he got up, chucked the papers into the drawer and left the room. Niall was playing guitar in his room and Harry bit his lip, turning towards it. He knocked gently on Niall’s door and watched him turn around on the chair.  
“You alright, mate?” Niall asked without rising from his chair, and Harry was grateful.  
“Yeah, I’m-” Harry looked away. “It’s fine, thanks for checking in,” he said, rubbing his neck and still looking at the floor. He glanced up at Niall, who was watching him with guitar in his lap. “Are you free this evening? Could we do some-” Harry said, waving his fingers in a circle. “Some guitar practice?”  
“Sure, I’m home all day.”  
“I just promised to see Lou in a few hours, but that shouldn’t be long. So.”  
“Just knock on the door, H,” Niall said, and Harry felt warmer.  
“Thanks, Nialler. Really.”  
“Drop it. Go eat your pancakes, they’ll get cold. I ain’t cooking for you next time if you don’t appreciate my effort.”  
Harry grinned, and Niall shooed him out of the room.

After he ate and cleaned his room enough for it to at least not be considered messy, he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes, feeling exhausted. He still had two hours before he had to leave, so he decided to catch some sleep.  
He kept dozing in and out of sleep, checking his phone for time every time he opened his eyes. He dreamt of Harold and last night, dreamt of that very morning, and dreamt of a time long ago, when he and Louis were binging Disney movies with Lottie and Gemma. It was Lottie’s birthday – she was turning three, and it was the first one after Harry and Gemma moved in next door. Lottie was watching the TV right in front of it, transfixed by the screen. Gemma was sat in an armchair, making as if she did not care about the stupid movie. Their parents were still at the table, talking quietly about something. Harry and Louis sat on the sofa in identical posures: chins tucked into their knees, eyes set on the prince and princess on the screen.  
“They look like twins, don’t they?” Anna said through her smile when she entered the room. She sat on the arm of Gemma’s armchair and smiled at them. Harry frowned at her.  
“Who?”  
“You two,” she said, gesturing to him and Louis. They exchanged a glance, wordlessly agreeing that those adults clearly did not know what they were saying.  
“But we are not twins, mum,” Harry said.  
“Mum means you look like twins, idiot,” Gemma said, giving him a straight face as if she could not believe someone could be so thick. “You sit in the same posture.”  
Harry and Louis looked at each other again, more attentive this time. Louis’ face split into a grin, and he giggled. Harry smiled.  
“I dunno, Gems,” Louis said to her, and Gemma, for once, didn’t look like she was about to puke. “Harry’s got his princess hair, I can’t compete with that,” he said and tugged at one of Harry’s curls.  
“My brother is a princess!” Gemma exclaimed and sounded mocking. Harry pouted at her. Lottie frowned at them because they were clearly bothering her with loud voices, and she just wanted to watch her movie.  
“Gemma!” Anna hissed at her.  
“Yeah, princess,” Louis said, his voice much more gentle than Gemma’s. “I like that. Harry is a princess. Lottie, what do you think?”  
Lottie gave him a stern look, which was shocking to see from a three year old, and showed him her tongue. Louis snorted.  
“Girls,” he muttered under his breath, watching Anna lead Gemma away into the kitchen.  
“I think Gems hates me,” Harry said to his knees, frowning at them.  
“Hey,” Louis said, nudging him till he looked up. “She doesn’t. She is just jealous that you are a princess and she isn’t,” Louis whispered like it was the greatest secret, and Harry giggled.   
Someone tapped Harry on his shoulder and he saw his sister with a piece of cake on a napkin in her hands.  
“I’m sorry, H. And I love you,” she said and glanced at Anna, who smiled encouragingly. Gemma sighed and handed Harry the cake.  
“Thanks, Gems. And I love you, too,” Harry said with much more ease than his sister did. He took the cake and offered half of it to Louis.

Harry blinked his eyes open and glanced at the screen – it was almost two! He jumped up, snatched the bag and left their flat not a minute later, running to the bus stop.   
When he made it to the library, Louis was already there, reading something.  
Harry stopped by their table, dropping the bag onto an empty chair and breathing heavily. He clutched the right of his rib cage.  
“Sorry- Lou- I- overslept,” he said, panting.  
“It’s alright, princess,” Louis said with an amused grin. “Had a late night, too?”  
Harry sat down, his mood plummeting.  
“You could say so,” he said, pretending to be busy looking for something in his bag. “You?”  
“Yeah, El and I lost count of time last night.”  
“Really?” Harry asked his textbook with too much dislike, but Louis didn’t seem to notice.  
“Yeah. I think we walked the whole city, like, twice.”  
“Oh,” Harry said, finally looking up. “Sounds romantic.”  
“It was, actually.”  
They fell silent for a moment, Harry watching Louis, whilst Louis looked at a shelf with a smile.  
“So, you two are properly together?”   
“What?” Louis said and frowned, struggling to bring Harry into focus. “Oh, erm, yeah. We- we are.”  
“Funny how fast it changed, ey?” Harry said, trying to smile playfully. He hoped Louis wouldn’t notice the struggle.  
“Isn’t it?” Louis said and sighed, shaking his head as if to shake a thought off. “Anyways, how have you been? Went out last night?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Found someone to take home?” Louis said with a smile, and Harry felt something close to fear. Louis, who was always uncomfortable when Harry even so much as mentioned a person he slept with, was now smiling at him about it?  
“Erm,” Harry said, lowering his bag to the floor. “I... actually, no. We just talked and then he saw me home,” Harry said quietly, looking at the table.  
“Oh. Maybe you’ll start a relationship, too?” Louis said with a small but genuine smile, which Harry could hear without even looking.  
“Yeah,” Harry said, rubbing his neck and smirking at himself. But then, “maybe we will, actually,” he said, frowning and nodding, finally looking Louis in the eye. Only that he saw happiness and no hurt. Harry swallowed.  
“Nice!” Louis said, clasping his hands.   
At that moment, Harry realized something, and it made his mouth go dry. He liked Louis more than a friend and he had just lost him.  
After realizing that, Harry could not for the life of him bring himself to focus on the stupid philosophy application essay he was supposed to write. So he just typed in some nonsense, not really caring about what appeared on the screen as he did so. Louis also did not look particularly focused on his work, but for entirely different reasons. Louis was in love with someone who liked him back, whilst Harry felt frozen after realising exactly the opposite.  
He hated their library and their table because now those weren’t theirs, were they?  
He left an hour after he came, with a fake excuse that Corrie’d asked him to be at the bakery that evening.  
“What, on a Saturday? I thought you never worked Saturdays?” Louis frowned as he watched Harry pack.  
“Yeah,” Harry said as he heaved up his backpack. “Got some sort of birthday order.”  
“Oh,” Louis looked disappointed. “Well, I hope I’ll see you next week? What about studying some day?”  
“Sure, call me up,” Harry said, retrieving. “Have fun with your essay, petal.”  
“Say hi to Corrie.”  
Harry saluted him and left the library, shame spreading through him. Love. Fucking in love with his best fucking mate. Excellent.  
He entered the bakery about an hour later, feeling heated and sweaty, and very much angry at himself and the world. Corrie was attending to a customer by the entrance and looked confused.  
“Harry? What are you doing here?”  
“I thought I’d pop in, if you don’t mind?” Harry walked in, taking his backpack off as he went. “You don’t have to pay me for the extra work, I just need to cool off,” he put on his apron and tied his hair up. Corrie looked concerned as she eyed him up and down. Harry shook his head silently, and she looked for a few more seconds before nodding.  
“Come on. People love a good cake on a Sunday morning. How about Red Velvet?”  
“Do we offer it?” Harry asked, confused, as he watched her take out the necessary ingredients from their kitchen counters. The room was lit with the warm afternoon sun, and the mint coloured furniture looked soothing to Harry’s eye.  
“No, we didn’t.”  
“Why am I making it?”  
“Because it is difficult and takes a long time,” she winked at him as she said it, and thrusted a box of eggs into his hands. Harry blinked.  
“Right,” he said, not really catching up. Corrie tapped her chin, as she eyed the cupboards. “Where is our food colouring?”  
“Bottom shelf of the one on your right.”  
“Thank you,” she said, standing up on her tiptoes to retrieve the box. She fished out a red sachet and placed it by all the other ingredients, minus the eggs, that is – those were still very much in Harry’s hands. Corried looked at the counter and smiled, looking satisfied. She brushed Harry’s shoulder. “Well, I think that’s all. The recipe is in the book, here,” she said as she gave him one of the numerous cookbooks that were lining up the shelves. “Red Velvet takes time to set in between, so if you feel like it, you could also make a batch of cupcakes or anything else you’d like.”  
“Anything else? But what do we really need?” Harry frowned, a box of eggs in one hand and a cookbook in the other.  
“I’ve already prepared everything for tomorrow,” Corrie said without a hint of regret. “So you busy yourself with the Red Velvet – we’ll make it a special offer tomorrow – and cook whatever you want to take home with you. Deal?”  
“But-”  
“I’m deaf,” Corries said, fingers in her ears and already exiting the room. “Can’t hear a thing, love, sorry!”  
“Thank you!”  
“Any time!”  
Cooking Red Velvet took a good part of Harry’s concentration, which he was glad about. By the time he finished, the bakery was empty, he had a pleasant ache in his back and neck, and was even sweatier than when he came in. He kissed Corrie on the cheek, hid a bag full of brownies in his backpack, and left the bakery.  
He popped into a drugstore on the way home and bought a blue nail polish that night. After attempting to practice guitar and eat the brownies at the same time, and ultimately giving up on the former, they watched a movie, during which Harry painted his nails, Niall nodding appreciatively at the colour and not really knowing the reason for why Harry decided to do that. Harry tried not to think about it too much. In any case, he wanted to paint his nails for a long time, but the moment never came. That is, till now.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry hadn’t seen Louis at all next week. He thought of texting him but decided to wait for Louis to text him first. That never happened.  
And so another Friday night found Harry at the bar. The nailpolish was chipping at the edges, and Harry was currently peeling it off his right thumb’s nail, his tongue peeking out. He was the only one occupying his table – Zayn was nowhere to be seen today and neither was Harold. Niall promised to pop in if he had time, and Louis disappeared off the face of the earth.  
Harry looked at his clean nail bed, which now stood out from the other painted ones. If you asked Harry, he looked edgy and cool, which was not his thing, unfortunately, so he felt a bit shy about his nails all week. Though Niall said he was turning into a proper rock-star.  
The doors opened and Harry glanced up, hoping to see Niall or even Harold, but definitely not Louis. He smiled automatically and rose from his chair when he saw the nest of hair, but plopped down next second when he glimpsed Eleanor. Of course, silly Harry. Can’t have one without the other these days.  
Harry grabbed his drink and watched it with way more interest than was strictly necessary.  
“Harry!” he heard Louis’ voice and put on a smile before lifting his head.  
“Oh, hey you two. Having a night out?” he asked, nodding at Eleanor and hoping his face expressed only serenity, which he decidedly didn’t feel. Louis looked at him closer, frowning. Harry hid his hands under the table.  
“Hey Harry,” Eleanor smiled at him, waving.  
“We were hoping to meet you, actually,” Louis said, setting their drinks on the table and pulling out a chair for Eleanor. He sat down between her and Harry.  
“Me? What for?” Harry asked, frowning at Louis. Louis was wearing a white tee and blue jeans, and he had contacts instead of glasses, his hair falling into his eyes in gentle whisps. Harry wanted to brush it away but instead grabbed the fabric of his jeans. He swallowed and looked at the table, hoping they hadn’t noticed him staring.  
Luckily, the moment did not seem to last longer than a second for Louis’ voice was unfazed when he answered:  
“What for? It’s like you were kidnapped or something: no texts, no calls, nothing. Have you even been to uni this week?”  
“Yeah, yeah, I have. Just busy with school and all. Had to prepare for exams next week, didn’t I?”  
“You could have called, I was worried!”  
Harry looked up at him again, and he could see Eleanor scrolling through her phone in his side vision. She was probably trying to give them some space and for once Harry was thankful.  
He thought of retaliating and asking Louis why he did not text him, but he just swallowed and nodded instead.  
“Yeah, my bad, sorry Lou.”  
“I just missed you.”  
Harry felt warmer but barely managed to stop a frown. Louis leant over and said something to Eleanor, covering her hand with his own. Harry got up, his chair scraping the floors.  
“I’ll go get a drink,” he said, snatching his empty glass. “Want anything?”  
“No, thanks, we are good.”  
Harry made an order and leant against the bar, dropping his head. He didn’t need Louis to lie to him. Who was he kidding? Harry clearly was not missed, and Louis did not need to make a scene of it. They probably just stumbled into Harry and felt obliged to sit with him. He shut his eyes real tight, but then someone came up behind him.  
“Hey gorgeous.”  
Harry straightened up and turned around to see a guy, with tight blond curls in a half bun and a band tee on.  
“Hey yourself,” Harry said and smiled, relaxing further and leaning back once again. The stranger glanced at his exposed chest. Harry smiled in what he hoped looked seductive. “Can I get you a drink?”  
“Well, now you stole my question.”  
“I’ve just ordered,” Harry said with a shrug, and the man smiled. “What would be your name?” Harry asked, taking his beer from the barman and wishing he had ordered something sexier.  
“Elija. And I’d like a beer too if you don’t mind.”  
“You speak my language, Elija. I’m Harry, by the way. Give me one second.”  
Harry ordered another beer and turned to face Elija, who was now sitting on one of the bar stools with his knees spread wide. Harry stepped between them and handed the man his drink, feeling a shadow of a buzz he used to get when meeting new people. New boys, to be more precise.  
Half an hour later he left Elija at the bar and came up to their table.  
“Lou, El,” Harry said and they looked at him. “I’m gonna go, okay?” Harry said, pointing at the doors with his thumb. “Was nice seeing you,” Harry said, already stepping back.  
“Already? Harry, stay,” Louis said, his hand still on Eleanor’s shoulder. Harry made sure not to look there and just shook his head.  
“Sorry, Lou, I have someone waiting for me,” he said with a smile and gestured at Elija hopping off his stool. Harry selfishly hoped for a glimpse of emotion, but Louis just sighed and smiled.  
“Oh well. Have fun,” he said with a wave and turned away before Harry could wave back.  
“Ready?” Elija said quietly, placing a warm hand at the small of his back.  
Harry tore his eyes away from Louis and his stupid hand on El’s shoulder and looked into the brown eyes. He felt empty.  
“Erm,” he said, swallowing. Elija watched his throat as he did it, and Harry felt repulsed. They stepped out into the warm summer night. “Actually, I changed my mind, mate. Sorry,” Harry said, clapped him on the shoulder and left before Elija could open his mouth.  
“Dickhead!” he heard him shout. Harry waved without turning and sped home on his own two.  
***  
Harry was still sleeping that night when he heard soft footsteps in his room.  
“Niall? Whatchadoinere?” he mumbled into his pillow, eyes still closed. He cuddled further into the blanket, which felt particularly pleasant in the room full of cold night air.  
“Princess?” a quiet voice said, and Harry was surely dreaming because it was still dim in the room. He shut his eyes tighter hoping the voice would come closer. Surprisingly, it did. “Princess, could you wake up? I made tea and brought scones.”  
Harry frowned when he realized he could smell the scones now, probably chocolate ones, and he could feel the tea warming his face. He risked one eye open and saw Louis crouching down not two feet away from him, a plate with two scones in his hands and two cups of tea on the floor between him and the bed. Louis smiled at him.  
“Good morning,” he said, still quietly, and Harry smiled despite himself.  
“What are you doing here?” Harry whispered, not moving. He was still slightly afraid Louis might evaporate if he made a sudden move.  
“I bring peace and tea,” Louis said, and he looked apologetic. Harry blinked. That must be a dream.  
He brought down the blanket and sat up on the bed, making sure the blanket covered his lower half completely. Harry was glad he decided to sleep in his underwear yesterday, he’d tell you that much.  
Meanwhile, Louis stood up and Harry followed him with his eyes. He still had his blue jeans from last night, but now he was also wearing a hoodie and his glasses. Harry blinked again, making sure Louis was still there.  
“What time is it?”  
“Half past six,” Louis said, just looking at Harry. Harry stared back, still taking him in. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Louis in the mornings for a very long time. Not that it matters, particularly, but still. Louis looked like he was meant to be hugged in that hoodie, with his eyes still slightly puffy from sleep, and his glasses, which made him look very young.  
“Where is the bloke, then?”  
“Who?” Harry asked, shaking his head back into reality. “Oh. We parted before… I didn’t bring him home,” Harry finished, looking at his lap with a hand on his neck. Louis shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  
“Can I have a seat?” he asked, nodding at Harry’s bed.  
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said, scooping further up to his pillow and leaving the other half vacant. “Please. Be my guest.”  
“How thoughtful of you,” Louis said, handing him the plate, plopping down on the bed, and crossing his legs. He had socks with cacti on them, which Harry got him last Christmas. Harry smiled.  
“Any time,” he said, bending forward and grabbing their tea. He handed Louis his cup. “So? What brought you here in those early hours?”  
“Well, I had an idea of making a tour of flower shops around the city, and thought you might want to tag along.”  
“Pardon?” Harry said, turning to Louis with a frown. The latter sipped his tea peacefully.  
“Flower shops, princess.”  
“Why?”  
“Just because,” Louis said with a shrug and took a bite of his scone. Harry looked at the plate and then back up at Louis.  
“Lou,” Harry said, gripping his still perfectly full cup.  
Louis swallowed and sighed deeply. He sat the cup in his lap and turned his face to him, looking concerned.  
“Something is off with you and I, princess, and I don’t want it to stay that way. I can’t even go through my day normally now because I have this heavy fog of a feeling looming over me,” Louis said, waving his hand above his head. “I want to talk and find out what is wrong, and also I just really missed you, and I wanted to spend time with you. And I’m sorry our last interactions involved El.”  
“No, it's fine,” Harry said at once to the last statement, though he was still processing the whole speech.  
“I know it’s not, princess, and I’m sorry I got carried away and didn’t think about you. I’m sorry and please let’s just talk and try to solve whatever it is, okay?”  
Louis looked like he was in turmoil while Harry stared at him for a few seconds. He swallowed, and Louis waved a hand in front of his face.  
“Earth to Harry, hello,” Louis said. Harry snapped out of his daze.  
“Sorry,” he smiled. “Sorry,” he repeated through his grin.  
“That’s better. Scone?” Louis said, raising the plate to his eye level.  
“Yeah, thank you.”  
Harry bit off and took the first sip of his tea. They were both facing the door now, chewing in silence for a minute. Harry could hear Louis swallow his tea, the sound strangely magnified by the early hours of the morning. He could feel Louis’ body heat to his left and he felt content for the first time that week. Harry felt like he was home again.  
“Did you paint your nails?” Louis asked, sounding surprised. Harry brought his hand in front of them, fingers splayed. His thumb’s nail was clear, but the rest of them were still, for the most part, blue.  
“Yeah, actually. What do you think?” Harry asked without looking at Louis.  
“It looks… Different,” Louis said thoughtfully, and Harry smiled.  
“You don’t like it,” he said to Louis’ face, and the boy looked caught.  
“No! No, I mean it looks nice. A bit hipster-ish.”  
“But you don’t think of me as a hipster.”  
“Well you aren’t one, are you? You are the sporty guy, more like. Snapbacks, trainers, that sort of thing?”  
“Well, there is always room for change, isn’t there?” Harry asked, dropping his hand to pick up his scone again.  
“Of course,” Louis said.  
Another silent minute passed, in which Harry finished his mini-breakfast and Louis dropped his empty tea cup back to the floor – Harry did not own a bed-side table.  
“I don’t dislike it though, I want that to be clear,” Louis said out of the blue, and Harry had to pause to remember what he was talking about. “I think you could pull it off if you wanted to. Especially with your yesterday’s outfit.”  
“You noticed?”  
“Of course I did. Your pecs were out for everyone to see,” Louis said, nudging Harry’s shoulder with a smile. “Nice muscles, by the way,” Louis said, nodding at his bare chest, and Harry was suddenly very aware of just how naked he was. He drew the blanket up to his armpits.  
“Thanks”  
Louis chuckled.  
“Since when are you shy?”  
“Dunno.”  
Louis looked him in the eyes for a few long moments and shook his head with a smile.  
“Tell you what, I’m gonna go put those into the sink and you can find your shy bum some clothes. Deal?”  
“I ain’t shy, piss off,” Harry said, dropping the blanket into his lap as he slapped Louis on the shoulder in his indignation. Louis stood up and grabbed the plate.  
“Sure you aren’t. Get ready, you’ve got five minutes.”  
“I demand shower!”  
“No time, princess, sorry, or all the good flowers will be taken. And don’t shout, you’ll wake Niall up,” Louis said before leaving for the kitchen.  
Harry huffed to himself and got up. He emerged from his room a minute later in his skinny jeans and a hoodie and headed for the bathroom. Louis was standing in the kitchen munching on a banana he found on the fridge. Harry squinted at him before closing the bathroom door, Louis grinned with his cheeks bulging.  
When they walked out onto the street, Harry hugged himself. It was grey and windy.  
“So, where to? Any particular place in mind?” he asked Louis as they headed to the nearest bus stop.  
“Yeah, there is one two stops away from you, they open at around this time,” Louis said, glancing at his watch. Louis actually had a watch, and not an sports one.  
“Alright.”  
They’d reached the stop and their bus was not coming for another six minutes – because it was a bloody Saturday morning – so they hid there from the wind, the whole thing just to themselves. Harry watched a woman walk her labrador ‘cross the street a few meters away when Louis asked:  
“Can we talk about it?”  
“Petal, I’m sorry,” Harry said at once, looking and feeling contrite. He hung his head, not having the bravery to look Louis in the eye when he said it.  
“It’s alright, it’s your feelings I hurt, I should have known you would feel uncomfortable.”  
Harry glanced up at him, feeling and looking surprised.  
“How are you even real.”  
Louis smiled sadly.  
“But knowing we are both sorry won’t solve the problem. Can you tell me what exactly bothered you? So that I don’t do that again?” Louis said tentatively, stepping forward and squeezing Harry’s elbow. Harry looked at him.  
“I just- I guess I’m not used to the feeling I’m not the only one in the room you care about,” Harry said, choosing the words carefully. But it still sounded too romantic, so he hurried to add: “I like Eleanor on her own, she seems nice, it’s just- it will probably take some time for me to get used to the thought that you are dating someone,” Harry said, looking away from Louis and into the sky behind him. “Like that you have someone closer than me,” Harry added, a revelation to himself, and felt blood rush to his ears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was so possessive,” he said, hanging his head again.  
Louis kept silent, and Harry looked up at him. Louis was frowning.  
“Did I say something wrong?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows and hoping he had his puppy eyes on.  
“No,” Louis said, shaking his head. “No, no, I understand what you are saying. I...” he looked unfocused for a second, but then he shook his head again, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I suppose I’ll just limit your interactions with each other till you are both comfortable seeing one another.”  
Harry looked at Louis, feeling horrible about his own behaviour. Louis was looking at his feet as he was poking the ground with his shoes. Harry took a step forward and gently squeezed his hands.  
“Lou, I’m sorry it’s like that. I want you to be happy, I don’t want to be so selfish. I’m really sorry,” he said quietly, dropping his head so as to look Louis in the eye. Louis looked up.  
“It’s- it’s alright, princess, really. I understand. It’s fine,” he said, not sounding that fine. Harry bit his lip but let it drop. He squeezed Louis' hands and let go, taking a step back. Their bus was coming.  
“So, the flower shops?” Harry said, smiling and trying to cheer Louis’ up. Louis smiled back.  
They spent the whole morning practically bathed in flowers. Harry never knew that mere visiting flower shops could be such an exciting way to spend a Saturday morning. When they walked into the first one, it was completely empty but for the cashier, which for once made it cozy instead of awkward. Harry came behind the sunflower section and sat down behind a big flower, so that it was covering his face.  
“Lou!” he called quietly, giggling when Louis turned to look at him. Upon spotting Harry, Louis snorted and fished out his phone to take a picture.  
That picture was soon followed by another one with Harry playing damsel in distress and rejecting a rose Louis was holding; one where Louis was giggling and looking off camera amongst daisies and forget-me-nots; and the one with Harry peeking out from the flower stalls, the happiest grin on his face.  
Harry sighed, looking around the fourth shop they were in that morning. At this time of the day there were sufficiently more customers. Harry said to Louis:  
“I think I want to work in a flower shop.”  
“Like, for life?” Louis said, looking up from a white and pink bouquet.  
Harry shrugged.  
“Just, in general. I like the idea of it.”  
“See, I have brilliant ideas,” Louis said, smiling and tapping his temple with an index finger. “Maybe you’ll change your career plans after today.”  
Harry chuckled, shaking his head.  
“Any more places in mind?” he asked then, glancing outside. It was drizzling the whole morning, which made the inside of the shops especially pleasant.  
“No, I think I found what I was looking for,” Louis said slowly, reaching for a bouquet. Harry frowned, his good mood slipping through his fingers like water. “What do you think of this one?” Louis said, taking one with light-yellow lilies. Harry schooled his face into neutral.  
“Yeah, those are… they are lovely, I’m sure Eleanor will really like them.”  
Louis nothing short of beamed at him before going to the counter. Harry stayed behind in the aisle with flowers, just watching him. He should have known, he supposed. It was all different now.  
***  
Harry looked up from his notes on Early Netherlandish Renaissance and stared at the plants around him. He was sat in a park which was, Harry admitted, way too beautiful to study in. It was barely noon on a Tuesday, and Harry had his Northern Renaissance exam tomorrow afternoon. He could barely sit home when he woke up to the sun kissing his face this morning. It was a beautiful day, so nobody could blame him for going straight to the Fletcher Moss park and finding a bench right after he sat his American Film examination. He was breathing deeply – he thought he could smell how green everything was. He closed his eyes and let the sun sink into his skin, pushing the last remnants of spring’s frosty winds out of him.  
He took another deep breath and blinked his eyes open, putting his sunglasses back on. He looked down into his notes again, but was interrupted by a cough and a shadow looming over him. He looked up again and grinned the very next second.  
“Harold!”  
“Harry.”  
“Good to see you,” Harry said, getting up and shaking the proffered hand. “Sit with me?”  
“What are you doing here?” Harold asked when they sat down, nodding at Harry’s notebook.  
“It's exam week, so,” Harry said with a shrug. He closed the notebook and tucked it behind himself. “Anyways, how have you been? Haven’t seen you in the pub last Friday.”  
“Well, I don't go out that often. I’m at the age when I need to take care of my health, you know.”  
“What were you doing, then? Walking in a park?”  
“Harry, come off it. Just a night in, I think I was watching a movie or something.”  
“Which one?”  
Harold smiled, took off his sunglasses, and wiped them clean with his tee.  
“Trust the film major to interrogate me about the movies. Everything is Illuminated was its name. Ever heard of it?”  
Harry looked at the nearest tree, frowning.  
“Is it the one about Jews and Ukraine? Has Elija Wood in it?”  
“Yep.”  
“I study Art History, too, by the way. Not just film.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I remember you complaining about your theory class,” Harold said, still smiling, whilst Harry felt his stomach sweep briefly. Harold must have noticed it. “Did I say something wrong?”  
“I’m just a bit concerned about what I might have let slip to you,” Harry confessed quietly, looking down into his lap now. He heard Harold chuckle.  
“Come off it, Harry. Even if you let something slip, what would I do with it?”  
Harry shrugged.  
“Dunno,” he said and paused for a second. He looked up at Harold. “I told you about Louis, right?”  
“Your best mate from childhood, was he? Or is he the one you can’t get along with?”  
“No, that’s Liam. Louis is my best mate.”  
“Oh, he’s got a girlfriend and cannot spend as much time with you, is that right?” Harold said, looking into the sky, as if it held the answers.  
“Yeah. We, like, talked about it the other day. He apologised for bringing her to our meetings and said he understood that I did not have to like her,” Harry said, blood rushing to his ears. He felt ashamed of his arrogance from before.  
Harold jotted his bottom lip forward.  
“That’s really nice of him, actually.”  
“Yeah, he is really nice, I think I told you that.”  
“Well, I hope you will forgive the old man some forgotten memories.”  
“Stop it with the age jokes, you are barely thirty, you are still young.”  
Harold sighed, as if Harry took away his last armour, and shook his head.  
“So what about Louis?”  
“What about him?” Harry said, frowning.  
Harold raised his eyebrows.  
“So you just casually singled him out in our conversation for no particular reason?”  
Harry bit his lip.  
“You won’t tell it to anyone else, would you?”  
“Who would I tell it to? I don’t know any friends of yours, do I?”  
Harry let all the air out, his shoulders sinking.  
“I think I’m in love with him,” he said to the grass. There was a moment when neither of them spoke or moved. Then Harry felt Harold’s gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing.  
“I’m sorry, bud. He still has his girlfriend, right?” Harold said quietly, and Harry nodded. “And you didn’t tell him?”  
“Nope. She is his first ever relationship. He never even kissed anyone before her. I don’t want to ruin that. Or lose his friendship,” Harry said and bent forward, tearing a grass leaf. He watched it sway in his hand.  
“You know, my parents were best friends before they married,” Harold said then, squeezing Harry’s shoulder once again. Harry looked at him, and Harold removed his hand, taking another grass leaf from the ground. He looked at it as he said:  
“They were going out in their last year of school, but when it all ended my dad entered Manchester uni, which my mum couldn’t afford. She went to work straight away, she needed to help her dad to earn money for her sisters. My grandma passed away after giving birth to her last daughter – there were four of them. And so my mum and dad kind of fell out of contact, you could say. They told me they never broke up, but mum just didn’t show up to dad’s birthday party in July, and he assumed she didn’t want him. Mum told me she just felt intimidated with all dad’s friends and thought she would look stupid in her prom dress since everyone had already seen it, and she could not afford another one. And so they went on with their separate lives, they both married soon after entering uni, both had kids. But my dad told me he could never get mum out of his head, he would still dream of her at night. Eventually he felt horrible around his wife, told her he wanted divorce and sought mum out. Mum was also divorcing at that time, and she agreed to meet him. Dad said he fell in love all over again when he saw her. It was September, the trees were yellow already, and they were meeting in the park. In this one, actually,” Harold said, tearing his gaze away from the grass leaf in his hand and looking around with a smile. “They hugged for a long time and soon after they got married. And then they gave birth to me,” Harold finished and Harry just stared at him for a few moments.  
“Wow,” he managed eventually, and Harold chuckled.  
“It’s a beautiful story, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah. It- it sounds like a movie, honestly.”  
“People tell me that exact thing every time I tell the story,” Harold said and leant back on the bench. “Anyway, did that give you hope?”  
Harry smiled sadly, not feeling hopeful in the least. He was happy for Harold’s parents though, so he told him that much.  
“Just don’t beat yourself up, Harry. It is not your fault you fell in love with Louis, and it is not his fault he happens to be dating someone else.”  
“Do you think there is a way out?”  
Harold looked at him for a minute.  
“If you want to risk it for the biscuit, then tell him. But remember that may lose you your mate. If you are ready to wait, then do that. Though they may end up married and you end up broken-hearted.”  
“Cheers.”  
“Hey, first relationships usually don’t last that long. I’ve heard they are supposed to show us what we don’t want in a partner.”  
“Aren’t your parents proving the opposite, though?”  
“Well, there is an exception to every rule. Just consider it carefully, yeah? He is your best mate, after all, he deserves some respect from you.”  
Harold’s phone buzzed.  
“Sorry,” he said to Harry, answering the call. When he lowered his phone and looked at Harry, he sighed.  
“Sorry, bud, gotta go.”  
They got up and shook hands once again.  
“It was really nice to see you.”  
“Yeah, Harry, you too. I hope I see you again some time.”  
“Can I have your number? We could do a lads’ night some time?”  
“Sure.”


	5. Chapter 5

That Friday, when Harry left the building after passing his last exam for the year, he took in a deep breath and let the wind pierce him. It was a cold summer day, and it’s been drizzling since early morning, which was when Harry woke Niall up because they both needed to revise – they’ve ditched revision last night for a round of FIFA – but Harry could not be bothered by the weather. He was finally free, and he had a long night of partying ahead of him.  
“Hey man.”  
Harry turned around and saw Zayn with a cigarette.  
“Morning,” Harry said back, and Zayn offered him his pack. “I don’t smoke, thank you.”  
“Do you mind if I do?”  
Harry shrugged, shaking his head ‘no’. Zayn lit up a cigarette, and they walked together.  
“Niall told me you and the lads are going out today?” Zayn said after some silence. Harry nodded.  
“Did you hit a limit of speaking on your exam?” Zayn said, letting the smoke out through his nose and smirking at him. Harry shook his head again, but this time he spoke:  
“Just enjoying the freedom.”  
“So you sure you didn’t fail?”  
Harry scrunched his face, and Zayn chuckled softly.  
“Alright, alright, sorry,” he said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. He put out his cigarette and threw it in the nearest bin. Harry watched his hand as he did that and then looked up.  
“Are you coming with us?”  
“I’ve got work today, but thanks for asking. Pop into the pub, say hi.”  
“Pretty sure yours was on the list, so,” Harry said, reaching out for a handshake. “Good to see you.”  
“You too, man. Have a fun night,” Zayn said as he shook his hand. He saw his bus and said, “Woops, gotta run. See you, Harry!”  
“Yeah, see you!”  
Harry watched Zayn run to catch his bus and when another bus came in its stead, Harry sighed. He fished out his phone, leaning against the lamppost, and checked the time. It was eleven. Harry stared at the road, thinking. After a minute, he pocketed his phone and came up to the bus station, taking the bus that led him to Liam and Louis’.  
When he knocked on their door half an hour later, it was Liam who opened it.  
“Oh, Harry, hi!” he said with a smile and stepped aside at once.  
“Hey Liam,” Harry said with an apprehensive smile. He heard laughter from somewhere inside the flat. “Is Lou home?”  
“Yeah, come on in, he and El are making cupcakes,” Liam said, already walking to their kitchen and waving for Harry to follow.  
“El is here?” Harry said, pausing with one shoe on.  
“Harry?” said Louis’ voice, and Harry saw his head popping out of the kitchen.  
“Hi,” Harry said and took off the second shoe, even though he really didn’t want to. “Sorry, I didn’t think you were busy.”  
“I’m not busy, come have some cupcakes,” Louis said, smiling at him as Harry walked up the corridor and into the kitchen.  
“Smells nice,” he said, entering the room. “Hey El.”  
Eleanor smiled at him from where she was pouring batter into bright green cupcake paper forms. Harry saw a batch of baked cupcakes on the table.  
“Good morning! How have you been? Haven’t seen you for ages!”  
Harry blushed and saw Louis glance at him.  
“Yeah, sorry, busy with school and stuff.”  
“But you are done with your exams now, right?” she asked, taking the tray and smiling at Liam as he opened the oven door for her. Harry watched her put the cupcakes in and when she looked back he nodded, playing with the hem of his jean jacket.  
“Yeah, erm- Listen, I’m sorry I came in like that, I should probably leave, don’t wanna bother your cupcake… cupcake time?” he finished lamely, blushing even more. He gave himself an internal beating up.  
“Not at all, Harry. Please stay, let’s have some tea,” Eleanor said, smiling at him, and it was such a friendly smile that Harry felt even worse. Why couldn’t she be just a little more hostile to him? Please? It would have made his life so much easier.  
“No, really, I’ll just go,” he said, already taking a step back. Liam and Eleanor frowned at him while Louis looked concerned. Harry blinked at him and looked back into the corridor. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”  
“But-” Liam started, but Louis spoke over him:  
“Yeah, Harry has to go pick up something for Niall,” he said, following Harry into the corridor. Harry glanced at him, eyebrows raised. Louis waved at him to go. Harry nodded and bent down to put on his trainers.  
“Yeah, he still has an exam, but that game shop closes in an hour, so,” Harry said loudly, making it up on the go, and Louis gave him an encouraging smile. Harry smiled at Eleanor, who was watching him from the kitchen and waved at her as he straightened up. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”  
“Yeah! I hope we’ll have some fun,” she smiled, and Harry felt his stomach sink.  
He put his hand on the handle and pushed the door open, Louis coming closer to shut it after him.  
“Sorry,” Louis mouthed, and Harry winked. Louis smiled briefly, and Harry stepped out onto their landing.  
“Bye!” he called into the flat.  
“Oh, Harry, wait!” he heard Eleanor shout and froze.  
“Yeah?” he said, bending forward a little to see her. She ran up the corridor towards him with a plastic bag.  
“Here, at least take these,” she said as she handed him a bag with a few cupcakes.  
“Oh,” Harry said, looking at it and somehow feeling like he was about to throw up. He looked up and saw Eleanor leaning into Louis, while Louis had his hand around her waist. They were both smiling at him, and Harry had a bizarre impression of parents watching him leave for uni. He shook his head and put on a smile. “Thanks, that’s really nice of you. I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”  
“See you!”  
He left the building almost at a run, and when he entered his own flat about an hour later, he found Niall in the kitchen, having his tea.  
“Was your exam alright?”  
“Yeah. Here,” Harry said, plopping down opposite Niall and pushing the cupcakes towards him.  
“Ohh,” Niall said as he took one out, looking happy. Why was everyone happy about Eleanor? “Where are these from?”  
“I went to see Louis and they were making those with Eleanor.”  
“Oh,” Niall said through a mouthful and had the decency to look apologetic. Harry hadn’t told him about liking Louis, but Niall picked up his sour mood from lately. Harry waved his hand dismissively.  
“It’s alright, Nialler,” he said and sighed. “Are they good?”  
Niall just nodded, swallowing his first bite. Harry jumped when Niall’s phone buzzed and Niall looked at the screen, swallowed and frowned, muttering,  
“Fuck off,” and deleted the messege.  
“What’s up with you and all those texts?” Harry asked, forgetting his bad mood for a second.  
“Nothing to worry about,” Niall said, popping another piece of cupcake into his mouth. Harry squinted at him and the latter flipped him a bird, which made Harry snort quietly. There was a pause. Then,  
“Harry, mate, are you alright? What’s up with you and El?”  
Harry shrugged, still looking at his knees.  
“Nothing, just… It’s all a bit abrupt, maybe?” Harry tried, not wanting to lie to Niall but not ready to tell him the truth either. Niall watched him with half a cupcake in his hand.  
“Well, now you don’t have classes, you can plan your trip properly, right? Sure you’ll make it up with Lou there.”  
“We are fine,” Harry said automatically, but Niall cut him off.  
“Save it for your mum, H. If you don’t wanna talk about it, fine. Just don’t lie to me, alright?”  
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Niall gave him a stern look. He closed his mouth and hanged his head. When he nodded, he felt Niall relax.  
“There is a good lad. Come on, have a cupcake.”

Harry took an ugly sense of satisfaction in picking out his outfit for that night. Which meant that half an hour before they had to leave he was stood in front of his bed, freshly showered, staring at the arrangement of his shirts, tee-s, and jeans on the bed. To be fair, he had only two actual shirts but a whole bunch of t-shirts. That fact posed a problem because, as he recently discovered, when he wanted to look sexy, shirts were a far better option.  
Twenty minutes and a lot of contemplation later, he looked at himself in the mirror in black skinnies and a half-opened black shirt – he decided that his body, not his clothes, had to do the talking this evening. He didn’t do all the footie for nothing, did he?  
He took a closer look at his hair, trying to decide whether he needed a bandana to complete his look. He was so new to the whole dressing up thing, it made him feel shy when he did get ready. For some reason, knowing that he would see Eleanor left him no choice but to try his best. He sighed, deciding to forgo the bandana.  
“Are you ready or what?” Niall bellowed from the corridor, and Harry jumped.  
“Coming!”  
He grabbed his wallet and phone and in no less than five minutes he and Niall were on the bus to the first club on their list.  
They found Liam, Louis, and Eleanor already on the dancefloor. Liam went up to them immediately and disappeared into the crowd with Niall, while Harry was left to stare at Louis.  
Louis was smiling bashfully, standing out from the people around him because he wasn’t dancing – he was rather trying to leave the dancefloor while Eleanor was trying to make him stay. He shook his head for the third time in the minute that Harry was looking, and Eleanor made puppy eyes at him. Louis shook his head again, looking apologetic and squeezing her hands in his, saying something. Eleanor sighed, and in that second someone pushed Harry from behind – he was in the middle of a dancefloor, after all. He apologised and went up towards the two, who were now just looking at each other. It was like they were unable to quarrel.  
“Alright, you two?”  
Harry’s grin was a genuine one this time as he watched Louis relax and smile with relief. Warmth spilled in the pit of Harry’s stomach.  
“Hi.”  
Louis’ gaze flickered to Harry’s pecs and Harry immediately wished he had a t-shirt on instead. He turned to Eleanor, who was still holding Louis’ hand.  
“Trying to make him dance?”  
“Yes, and he wouldn’t dance with me at all! What’s the point of being in a club and not dancing?”  
“El, I told you I wouldn’t do it before we even got here. I just don’t feel comfortable in these places, I’m sorry.”  
Louis looked and sounded genuine, but Eleanor still pouted.  
“Tell you what,” Harry said, and they both looked at him. “How about I take Louis to a table while you dance with your friends?”  
Louis looked at Eleanor hopefully. She sighed once again before acquiescing.  
“But only today, Louis Tomlinson. Next time we go to the club, you are dancing with me.”  
She pointed a finger at him and Louis smiled.  
“Thank you,” he said and pecked her before she left. Louis and Harry watched her go silently. The club music kept on its beat around them as they stood there, side by side, watching and feeling people dance. Harry opened his mouth just as Louis did, too:  
“I’m sorry for barging in earlier today.”  
“Thanks for rescuing me.”  
Giggles overtook them both.  
“Come on,” Harry hugged Louis by the shoulders and turned towards the bar, “let’s get the drinks and find a place to sit.”  
Surprisingly, they managed to find a vacant table – granted, it was close to the dancefloor and people were constantly passing them.  
“I see you are becoming more and more of a hipster?”  
Louis nodded at his torso, and Harry looked down, a glass with lemon juice halfway up to his mouth.  
“Yeah, erm,” Harry said and shifted uncomfortably. He fumbled for words but couldn’t find any, watching the table top instead.  
“It suits you,” Louis said then. Harry stopped trying to cover himself up and looked at him. “As far as I can judge.”  
Louis shrugged and took a sip.  
“You don’t look too bad yourself.”  
Louis was dressed in skinny jeans (which were his only ones, Harry knew for sure, and which were not his go-to) and a Black Sabbath tee. They both shared a love for band t-shirts.  
“Liam and El made me wear those.”  
He pinched his thigh, bringing the leg out from under the table.  
“Well, I can see why. You should wear them more often.”  
Louis looked down at the table at once, and Harry bent down to catch his eye.  
“Come on, Lou. You are sexy, don’t shy away from that,” Harry said, nudging his foot under the table. Louis bit his lip but didn’t raise his eyes at him.  
“How was your exam?” he asked then, and Harry barely managed to keep his face.  
“Fine, I think.”  
He shrugged and turned to his right. In their awkward silence, Louis seemed to be watching the crowd, too.  
They could see Liam laughing with a group of guys and girls, Eleanor among them. A few people were grinding on each other and Harry wondered if those were strangers or actual couples. At the bar, a bloke was flirting with a blonde girl, who was ignoring him completely in favour of the barman. Two barmen on the other side were talking in between pouring out drinks with polite smiles. Harry sighed, realising he didn’t want to join any of those people – not today, not tomorrow, not next month, just like he hadn’t joined them for the last month. He took a sip of beer and closed his eyes.  
“Princess?” Louis asked then, and it was so quiet Harry could have easily missed it. But he didn’t.  
“Petal?”  
“I miss you.”  
Harry opened his eyes and stared at Louis, not daring to believe his ears. Louis glanced at the table before looking up again.  
“I just miss being around someone I don’t have to play pretence with, you know?”  
“Do you- don’t you feel comfortable around El?”  
“I do,” Louis said at once, but then he blushed. “It’s just… You know how when you meet someone new, you first try to be really polite and careful around them? Like, you don’t want to scare them off, right? Like you won’t push your opinions down their throat first chance you get, you know what I mean?”  
Louis was saying it all to the crowd who wasn’t paying him any attention. Harry was though.  
“Yeah,” Harry said slowly, swallowing, his mouth dry. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”  
“And El… I just don’t know her that well yet.”  
Louis sighed and stared at his glass for a bit. Harry did not move. Louis continued: “We do talk a lot, and she is very sweet, but that is my first ever relationship, and I’m scared I’ll mess it all up. Like, what if I say or do something too early on, and she’ll think I’m a weirdo?”  
Harry watched the way Louis’ hair reflected the light for a good minute, choosing his words very carefully. Louis kept examining his glass, fidgeting now and then. Harry pried the juice away and set it aside, which earned him Louis’ whole attention.  
“Do you really think it matters how soon you reveal yourself to another person? Isn’t it better that we don’t develop strong relationships with people we do not get along with?” Harry swallowed, feeling like he was walking a very fine line. Louis, however, looked curious and not offended, so Harry went on: “Like, Niall and I, for example. We started bickering from the first week we moved in, and we stuck together ever since, you know. And if we happened to fundamentally disagree on something – like, I don’t know, if he insisted on putting sugar in his tea,” Louis smiled at that, and Harry mirrored the gesture, “yeah, but if we concealed ourselves from the beginning, eventually the truth would have come out in any case, and then it would have been painful, you know? Because I already am his friend, and I don’t want to have serious disagreements with him,” he said and watched Louis nod slowly. “But I think if you and El are having a good time, you shouldn’t be afraid to be more yourself with her. You already get along really well, so you’ll probably just like each other better after you are more honest.”  
Louis bit his cheek and looked to the side, nodding repeatedly once again.  
“I hope I didn’t offend you?”  
Louis looked at him, frowning.  
“What? No, of course not. And thanks for advice, I think I’ll take it.”  
Relief washed over him from the crown of his head down to his toes.  
Another silence fell upon them, but this time it was a pleasant one. Harry could feel Louis’ legs close to his under the table, and, somehow, it made him feel grounded and safe.  
Then,  
“Loo,” Louis muttered and got up.  
“I’ll go get us drinks, then.”  
Louis gave him a thumbs-up and left to join the short queue. After Harry made his order at the bar, he lent back to watch the crowd: they were all jumping to the music now but he felt very content standing there and just observing. Niall spotted him and waved him over, but Harry just shook his head with a smile.  
He glanced at their table. Louis was still not there. When he grabbed their drinks from the barman, he felt someone come up from behind.  
“Can I get you a drink?” that someone asked, and Harry turned, two glasses in his hands. It was a very tall guy with a very hopeful look on his face. Somehow, he reminded him of Liam. Harry glimpsed Louis over his shoulder.  
“Sorry, mate, already got someone,” Harry said, raising two drinks so that the guy could see.  
When Harry came back to their table, Louis said:  
“Do you wanna leave with that guy? I won’t mind.”  
“Nope,” Harry said, dragging his chair closer to Louis this time and nudging his shoulder gently. “I missed you too, you know.”  
“Did I take that long in the loo?” Louis asked, quirking an eyebrow, but Harry could see how pleased he actually was.  
He spent the rest of the night not leaving Louis’ side. Eleanor, Liam, and Niall joined them for some time, but then tore away to dance some more, bodies sweaty and eyes glazed over. They ended up spending the whole night in that same club, without visiting Zayn’s pub. Harry remembered that only on the way home.  
Louis invited Harry over on Saturday for a movie night – Eleanor was going away for the weekend to see her parents. So Harry skipped his songwriting for the second Saturday in a row in favour of doing something with Louis. In the morning, he let himself sleep in for the first time in weeks, and peeled himself off the bed at around nine o’clock. He could still hear Niall’s soft snores when he was in the kitchen, so he counted it as an early rise.  
He prepared the eggs, made a cup of tea, and ate his breakfast in the best mood he had been lately. He remembered how only yesterday he was sitting at this very table and Niall, sat in Harry’s place, told him to drop it and focus on the vacation instead.  
Louis and Harry had a tradition – every year they travelled somewhere in the summer. They’ve done it since they were eight years old, when their families decided to go on a trip together for the first time. Sometimes they travelled around Europe, sometimes they stayed within the UK – it was different each year, and Harry loved every last bit of it. Loved letting his skin burn despite mum’s insistent attempts to drown him in sun-screen; loved running around beaches with Louis, Gemma, and Lottie, struggling to move his feet in the sand; loved lying down at the end of a long day and staring at the clear sky; loved walking unfamiliar cities and letting the guid’s words wash over him, not remembering a single thing – he knew Louis would gladly recite every word to him later that day; loved bickering with Gemma in the car about who takes the best spot and who is the sweatiest; loved waking up early and going to bed really late, exhausted because of how intense his rest was.  
When they came to university, they travelled without their families for the first time. It was awkward at first. They booked a small cabin in Scotland, near a small fishing town called Tobermory, and spent their week walking the town and taking trips to nearby destinations. The first night they moved in they spent watching the TV sitting miles apart on the sofa. It was rather difficult without the hustle and bustle of their families. But by the end of that night, a few good films and pizzas later, Harry was laughing with his head in Louis’ lap at his own joke, and Louis was clapping his shoulders, shaking, cheeks red from laughter.  
Their second year wasn’t much different, only that this time they visited Birmingham, having binged Peaky Blinders on Netflix in April of their second year. They found themselves in a new pub every day, and Harry could not say he remembered much of the city, but he remembered Louis and his drunk giggling every night when they were trying to find their airbnb. It really didn’t take much to make Louis tipsy, what with his allergy to alcohol. That summer seemed to be one of the better days for booze and Louis. He hadn’t had a single reaction.  
Thoughts of possible destinations for this year kept buzzing in Harry’s head as he returned to his room. He would surprise Louis with the booked rooms tonight.  
He checked his savings and saw a little more than half a thousand quid staring back at him, which was not so bad. Harry sighed. What is money if you do not spend it, right?  
He followed the link with payment and did not hover his mouse for too long before disposing of the majority of his savings for the trip.  
***  
The titles came up, and Harry sighed deeply before closing the laptop. Louis stayed close, his head on Harry’s shoulder, and they looked at the opposite wall with a shelf full of books. Harry felt as if they went back in time to a month ago, when they were both single, and he was happily oblivious to his feelings for his best mate.  
He was yet to tell Louis the big news, and Louis opened his mouth to ask him something. Harry squeezed his shoulder when he saw Louis playing with the fabric of his sweats, where it was stretched out around his knee.  
“What is it?”  
“I wanted to ask you a favour, actually,” Louis said, and this time he sat up and turned on the bed to face Harry. It was still light outside, even though the day was a grey one, twilight barely taking force, so Harry could see Louis’ face clearly, and that face was looking guilty.  
“A favour?” Harry asked, bringing up his legs to sit cross-legged. Louis mirrored his posture.  
“You remember how you told me yesterday to open up to El a bit more?”  
“Yes?”  
“So I was thinking how I could do that in a way that would be natural but also give me little chance of changing my mind,” Louis said, and Harry frowned. He then nodded, and Louis continued, looking at his feet now. “So, erm,” he rubbed his neck. “So I thought El and I should take a trip somewhere. Like we,” he gestured between himself and Harry, “do every year, you know?”  
Harry nodded again, his stomach ready to drop at any second.  
“So my leave from work is only for two weeks this summer, for when you and I wanted to go. So I wanted to ask if you don’t mind my going with El this year instead?”  
It looked like it pained him to say the words – he was still talking to his feet. A part of Harry felt like Louis deserved the pain because it hurt Harry to hear them, too. He was glad Louis wasn’t looking, it gave him time to school his features into something approximating nonchalance. (or so he hoped).  
“Yeah,” Harry croaked. He coughed just as Louis looked up. Harry’s chest was physically aching now. “I get it.”  
He didn’t. He really didn’t get why he was the one to suffer when it was Louis and Eleanor who were in a relationship.  
“Are you angry with me?”  
“I… I can’t say I’m pleased, exactly, but it’s fine. It was bound to change one year, wasn’t it?”  
“I promise we’ll do it next summer,” Louis said hastily, and Harry got the feeling he prepared this excuse long beforehand. Harry just nodded, biting at the inside of his cheek. He felt something bitter spill in his chest, and swallowed, nodding again.  
“I can live with that,” Harry said with a weak smile, and Louis took it as a good sign, it seemed – he beamed at Harry and stood on his knees to hug him. Harry caught him and closed his eyes, taking in the familiar scent.  
“Thank you, princess. You literally are the bestest of mates,” Louis said, whispered even, and Harry smiled sadly. “I promise when you have a boyfriend I’ll do everything you’d ask me to.”  
At that, Harry actually snorted. How ironic.  
“I will, I promise,” Louis said, taking the snort the wrong way.  
“Yeah, yeah, I don’t doubt it. You are the most responsible person I know, petal,” Harry said, letting Louis go. They sat across from each other again and Louis looked infinitely relieved. Harry, on the other hand, felt more and more that whatever weight was taken off Louis’ shoulders, was immediately loaded onto his own.  
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Louis said then.  
“Only if that’s not your way to say thank you.”  
Louis giggled.  
“Promise it isn’t,” he said, already getting to his feet.  
Soon they were outside, Harry wearing one of Louis’ hoodies and Louis bundled up in his beige sweater.  
They walked the city and watched the stars pop to life one by one, pointing out constellations, and laughing – laughing so much their stomachs hurt with it. But all the while regret was eating at Harry’s insides and every time Louis looked at him, eyes clear and shining, a pang of sadness hit him in the chest, stealing the air from his lungs for a few moments.  
And when Louis waved Harry goodbye that night from his porch, Harry felt like he was in one of those movies which his professors would never approve for a class project.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry spent the following week trying to just not think about it.  
Needless to say, he failed.  
Louis was leaving on Thursday, which was earlier than even Harry’s booked little cottage. He could not shake off the feeling that Louis was eager to leave him behind, or just get it over with and take the next step in his relationship with Eleanor. Did Louis want to really take it to the next level? Did he ask only about being vulnerable mentally or did he mean physical vulnerability (read: sex), too?  
Harry didn’t know. Unfortunately, that did not prevent his brain from feeding him images. He really wished he could concentrate, for now he had endless opportunities for song writing, but his brain just would not agree. He stared at the proverbial blank page for hours at a time during the day and tossed in his bed each night for long hours, failing miserably at both writing and sleeping.  
His guitar lessons with Niall went mostly well, and Harry relished them because the amount of concentration required to learn a new melody effectively pushed Louis and what he might do on his trip out of Harry’s thoughts. But Niall had his own life to attend to and there were only so many hours in which they could practice in a day before Harry’s brain turned to mush and Niall grew restless.  
So Wednesday evening found Harry on his porch, waiting for Harold to pick him up. It was still light outside, just like this Saturday, when Louis asked Harry to cancel their vacation. Harry was still bitter about it, mind you.  
He turned around when he heard a car approaching and saw Harold waving at him from the front seat of his BMW. Harry grinned and made his way to the car, plopping into the passenger seat.  
“Nice car,” he said in lieu of greeting, and Harold smiled at him.  
“Thanks, bud. So, where to?”  
“Do you feel like drinking?”  
“On a weekday night? I’m a working man, Harry, take mercy.”  
“Alright, alright, sorry. Then how about a walk somewhere nice? You, as an old person, must have a favourite place for walking in the city, right?”  
“You are a bit of a prat, did you know that?” Harold said as he took out his phone.  
“So I’ve been told.”  
They kept silent for a few moments, while Harold typed in the destination into his phone and then set it into the phone-holder.  
“So, how have you been?” Harry asked when they got back onto the road.  
“Fine. Finished a huge project last Friday, went out with my colleagues to celebrate. It was nice.”  
“What was the project about? Or is it confidential?”  
Harold smiled at the road.  
“It will be a private girls’ school.”  
“Oh-h, like those super posh ones where they all drink champagne and pretend to be adults?”  
“You are probably thinking about Gossip Girl,” Harold said, leaning forwards a bit and taking a turn to the left. “It was an old lady, she wanted to make a school where all girls could go.”  
“Yeah, yeah, all girls who have rich parents, more like.”  
“Ce la vie,” Harold said with a shrug, and they fell into another silence. After Harry counted the fifth turn of the road, Harold asked:  
“So what about you? Any progress with Louis?”  
“I like how you are more privy to my love-life than my best mate is,” Harry said, looking out the window.  
“Well considering you are in love with your best mate but not in love with me, it makes sense, you know,” Harold was still looking at the road. Harry kept his eyes on him for a second.  
“Think you and I could date?”  
Harold seemed to muse the thought, pursing his lips. Eventually, he shrugged.  
“Maybe,” he said and glanced at Harry, who winked exaggeratedly, trying to calm his stomach which churned every time he thought of Louis these days. Harold shook his head and looked back ahead of himself. “You know, if you are into older men.”  
“Always wanted to have a daddy.”  
“Is Louis older, then?”  
“Yep. A whole month and six days older.”  
Harold snorted.  
“Well, in that case, I might be too old for you, darling.”  
“Well, as long as you call me darling,” Harry said in his lowest voice which prompted Harold to laugh once again. Harry laughed with him.  
They pulled up soon after and Harry looked around when they emerged from the car.  
“Where are we, exactly?”  
“Platt Fields Park. Come on, they have a Shakespearian garden I really like,” Harold walked around the car and joined Harry on the left.  
“Shakespearian garden? What’s that supposed to mean?”  
Harry frowned at him as they started walking towards the entrance.  
“It has only plants mentioned in his works.”  
Harry looked at him, eyes wide.  
“What?” Harold asked, looking amused.  
“Imagine someone taking the time and effort to seek out every plant mentioned there.”  
“Well, it’s a beautiful garden.”  
The first thing Harry noticed when they entered was a huge lake to his right, which had an island in the centre.  
“It’s a big place, right?”  
“Yeah, there are like playgrounds for children and for sports, a few gardens, the lake,” Harold said, pointing to the water. “Wanna come closer?”  
“Sure.”  
They walked the path towards the lake, passing a few couples.  
“You know, people may think we are a couple,” Harry muttered as they walked along the shore, passing yet another elderly pair.  
“You know, if Louis was not the first thing you told me that night at the pub, I would have thought you were flirting.”  
Harry wiggled his eyebrows and grinned his best cheshire cat grin. Harold shook his head, chuckling.  
“I have a girlfriend now, by the way.”  
“Really? Who is she?”  
“A coworker, Rachel. We’ve known each other for a while now, and this Friday, when we went out, I asked her out on a date.”  
“Congratulations!”  
“Thank you, Harry.”  
“Wait, didn’t she mind that you are with me tonight?”  
“I mean, we only had one date so far, and I don’t think I mentioned you, bud, sorry. Don’t take it personally.”  
“How could you! Not mention me? Your greatest friend? Your faithful shoulder to cry on?”  
“Oh, I think you’ve got it twisted, darling.”  
They stopped and watched the children in the distance.  
When they started walking again, Harry brought his thoughts back together.  
“Anyway, I’m really happy for you. Really, congrats.”  
Harold turned to him, the smile still on. He just nodded, and they walked to the playground in silence. When they approached the high school building, Harry asked his feet:  
“Harold?”  
“Yes, Harry?”  
“Did you ever experience unrequited love?”  
“Yeah. I liked a girl in college, although that is not an inspiring example.”  
“Why not?”  
“Well, I told her about my feelings at a party, but she just sort of giggled at me? I think she was too drunk to understand what I was saying. Or she might have pretended,” Harold said, shrugging.  
“And what then?”  
“Nothing. I never said a word to her again, and she was not that into me to begin with, so,” he shrugged again, “it sort of ended without any resolution.”  
Harry looked at the garden they were passing by. He felt offended by this story.  
“By the way, you didn’t tell me how Louis was,” Harold said, nudging him gently. Harry looked at his feet again.  
“He is leaving for a vacation this Thursday with her.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah. ‘Oh’.”  
“Are you happy?”  
“Why should I be happy?” Harry frowned. Harold looked apologetic but explained in a kind voice:  
“Maybe some distance could help, you know. To gain some perspective.”  
Harry sighed.  
“I don’t think so. It was meant to be ours, you know. The vacation. We do it every year for as long as we’ve known each other. I even booked a place for us and everything.”  
“Did you tell Louis that?”  
Harry shook his head.  
“He asked me if I was okay if he goes with El this year, and I agreed. Seemed stupid to tell him I already booked a place. He was conflicted enough as it was.”  
“Oh, Harry,” Harold said and pulled him into a hug. Harry let himself relax into it and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, bud.”  
“No, I mean, it’s a stupid situation. It’s just… I thought I could learn to deal with the feeling, but it just grows stronger, I dunno,” he mumbled into the fabric of Harold’s tee. He sighed as the man patted his head softly. “Like, we spent such a nice weekend together, El was away, and then I found out, and it’s just unfair, you know? I never played with people’s feelings like that, you know? I don’t know how I deserved it,” Harry closed his eyes tightly and Harold tightened his hold around him. “And the thing is, I, like, I can’t even be angry with Lou, because… I just can’t, like it’s not his fault and I even tried to be angry, but I can’t bring myself to feel it. I feel angry at El, but then I feel guilty for feeling that way, because she is just as oblivious to it and she has every right to date him and everything. Like, when did it all get so complicated? What was wrong with me just taking blokes home and not having the butterflies? Why did it have to happen now? Why?”  
“Sh-h, Harry, it’s alright. It’s alright to feel it, all of it. Just embrace it.”  
“Easy to say,” Harry mumbled into his shoulder, his fight leaving him. His throat felt constricted, but he didn’t have tears in his eyes.  
“I know, bud, and I’m sorry I can’t help you with it.”  
Harry sighed again, clapping Harold on the back and drawing away.  
“Thanks for bearing with me, again.”  
“Any time.”  
“I’m sorry I always end up talking about myself.”  
Harry ran his hands down his face. When he opened his eyes, Harold was looking at him.  
“I like you, you know. Like an older brother would,” Harold said and Harry smiled. “You don’t have a brother, do you?”  
“Nope, I’ve got a sister, Gemms.”  
“Well, any time you need a big brother’s advice, I’m here,” Harold said, hugging Harry by the shoulders as they resumed their walk.  
“Any time you need to hear how old you are, I’m here,” Harry said quietly, poking him in the ribcage.  
They finally reached the promised garden, and Harry had to admit it was beautiful. They walked around, talking about Harry’s exams, Harold’s date with Rachel (they went to a French restaurant, and she insisted on paying for herself), Harry’s fights with Gemma when they were little and Harold’s half-siblings, on both his mum’s and his dad’s side.  
Harold drove Harry home when it was already dark outside and a pleasant ache tugged at Harry’s bones – he was tired and ready to fall asleep.  
“Thanks for the evening, darling,” Harry said with a coy smile, even though his eyelids were closing because of how sleepy he was.  
“Any time, sweetheart,” Harold answered, laughing, and patted Harry on the cheek. “Hope you sleep well tonight.”  
“Yeah, I hope so, too,” Harry said, leaning his head against the headrest and letting his eyes close for a moment before making an effort to focus on Harold again. “Well, I’m happy for you and Rachel, and I hope I’ll see you again some time. Reckon she will let you go out with your hottest friend?”  
Harold chuckled.  
“Go sleep, Harry, no need to be sexy with me.”  
“Alright, alright,” Harry said, clapped Harold on the knee – partly to support himself in the difficult task of sitting up. He left the car and bent down: “Sleep tight, darling.”  
“G’night.”  
He dragged his feet to their front door but took some time to figure out how to unlock the flat in the darkness – he kept using the wrong key and cursed the lamp that had to go out this very afternoon. He stopped when he heard Niall shout:  
“Go away!”  
“Pardon?” Harry asked the door, frowning. He brought his ear to the door and listened, hard. Niall seemed to be in his room. Was he talking on the phone?  
“No, I told you to go away. A-w-a-y. I am not interested, alright? And quit texting me.”  
“Niall?” Harry asked and heard a window close in the flat. “Niall! You alright?” he shouted and heard quick footsteps. Niall opened the door, his cheeks red and frowning.  
“That lad, I swear,” he was murmuring as he stepped back to allow Harry in. Niall stopped abruptly when he took a good look at Harry.  
“Are you alright there?”  
Harry blinked at him languidly and shrugged.  
“I’m just so tired, Nialler. Like, knackered, you know what I mean?”  
He leant against the wall to toe off his shoes. Niall supported him with a hand on his arm, not looking angry any more. Harry asked his shoes,  
“Who were you shouting at?”  
Niall just shook his head.  
“Doesn’t matter now. I see you had a few drinks?”  
“Nope, we just walked. Harold, remember? A guy I met a few times?”  
Harry shook his leg to throw off the trainer.  
“The one you wanted to sleep with but didn’t?”  
Niall crouched down and slipped the trainer off Harry’s foot.  
“The very same. He’s got a girlfriend now, by the way. So we walked in Platt Fields Park, did you know about it?” he asked as Niall straightened up again and looked at him with a concerned expression on his face. Harry’s tummy felt heavy with something, but he ignored it. “There is a Shakespearean Garden there, it’s gorgeous. It has only trees from his poems, can you imagine? You and I should go there sometime. There are also, like, sport’s things and an area for kids and…”  
Harry blinked and felt a hot tear run down his right cheek. Next thing he knew Niall was hugging him, and Harry was weeping for the second time that evening. No, scratch that, Harry was sobbing, his whole body shaking with it. He could feel his nose getting more and more stuffed, tears running freely now. All his muscles felt tight, like he was ready to jump any moment – at the same time, Harry decidedly did not feel like moving. No, scratch that – he was immobilised. He gripped onto Niall’s shirt and whispered into the darkness of their hall:  
“Niall, I think I’m in love with him.”  
“I know, mate,” Niall said quietly and kept patting him on the back.  
“Not Harold, I love-”  
“Lou, yeah, I figured,” he said, and Harry closed his eyes, leaning into the touch and revelling in Niall’s warmth. Tension slowly seeped out of his muscles now, bit by bit. Niall asked quietly, “Do you want to tell him?”  
Harry’s body tensed back the next second and he straightened up and looked at Niall. He gently squeezed Harry’s shoulders, and the latter remembered he needed to answer.  
“Should I? Like, if I tell him I love him, it would probably scare him off, and then he’d feel guilty for liking El and not me, you know how he is.”  
“But do you think you can keep going like that?” he said as he gently swept Harry’s hair off his forehead, much like Anne did when he was little. Harry closed his eyes. “You haven’t been yourself lately – you are quiet, you stopped cooking, you don’t go out. Do you think you can keep living like that?”  
“Well, Lou is leaving tomorrow, so maybe that would give me some time to reflect and, like, figure out what to do with it all. Gain perspective,” Harry repeated Harold’s words, and Niall looked at him for a few moments before shrugging with a sigh.  
“I would have told him, if I were you. Let the lad at least know the truth. But if you think time would help, then do what you think is best.”  
Harry nodded, looking at the floor. Niall squeezed his shoulders once more.  
“Come on, sleepy time.”  
But, despite how tired Harry was that night, he didn’t sleep much. After Niall left his room, having tucked him in bed, Harry stared at the ceiling that sometimes changed to yellow and red from the light of the passing cars.  
Should he tell Louis about his feelings? What was there to lose? Their friendship, for one. Probably Louis’ relationship with El would also be temporarily shaken. Hell, Louis would be shaken.  
Harry remembered how he kissed someone for the first time – he was fourteen and kissed the girl who came to see their footie training behind the school building. He didn’t remember how exactly they ended up snogging, but he recalled how smug he felt that day and how he wasted no time in relaying all the details to Louis. His friend listened patiently, clapping him on the back at the end of it and saying that that was cool. Harry never concealed his personal life from Louis, and when he started having sex at uni, Louis did not blink an eye. How surprised would he be if Harry told him he loved him? Louis would probably think Harry was incapable of loving someone, especially because he never told Louis of his feelings about the people he’s been with. That is because he had no feelings. Not love, anyway.  
He imagined Louis’ stunned face and had to conceal his laugh behind the blanket, or else Niall would think he was completely insane.  
But what if Louis liked him back? Harry felt warm all over, and his head was dizzy for the one second that he allowed himself to imagine their kiss. He would buy Louis flowers, sunflowers, lots of them; he would write songs about him and take him on walks early in the mornings to watch Manchester before it woke up properly.  
He sighed and turned on the bed, drawing the blanket up to his nose.  
Louis was leaving his place at ten next morning. If Harry managed to wake up by then without an alarm, he would go and tell him.  
***  
Harry stood in front of Louis door at nine fifty, heart rabitting in his chest, as it had been ever since he woke up fifty two minutes ago. His hair probably looked horrible, and his clothes were from the day before, all sweaty from the walk with Harold. Harry didn’t know what he looked like, he only managed to brush his teeth before running to the cab.  
He knocked and felt his heart beat even faster. It felt like it wanted to go. Maybe Harry should go, too?  
But before he could, the doors swung open, and there stood Louis, in the hoodie Harry borrowed last weekend, and Harry's mouth suddenly became very dry.  
“Princess? What are you doing here?” Louis looked bewildered but smiled nonetheless. Always smiled at Harry.  
“Hey,” Harry croaked and coughed to make his voice softer. “Can we talk?”  
“Now?”  
Louis glanced back into the flat – he probably was doing some last-minute packing.  
“Yeah, just a minute, I won’t take long, I promise.”  
Louis smiled more certainly at that and stepped aside to let Harry in. Liam came to Harry’s mind and he took a step back.  
“Maybe you could come out here instead?”  
Louis frowned.  
“Oh-kay,” he said slowly, stepping out of the flat.  
He kept frowning, but now in a concerned sort of way. He must have finally noticed Harry’s dishevelled state.  
“Princess, are you alright?” he asked quietly, stepping closer and stroking Harry’s hair gently. Harry closed his eyes and leant into it. “You don’t look well to me. Are you sure you aren’t ill?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said and sighed, the weight of the imminent confession pressing him down. He opened his eyes and looked at Louis’ face, taking in the frowning eyebrows, the button nose, the blue eyes, which Harry could see so well now that Louis wasn’t wearing glasses.  
“Are you sure, love?” Louis checked Harry’s forehead. “Well, you don’t have a fever, that’s comforting,” he murmured almost to himself. Harry clasped Louis’ wrist gently, pressing his hand to his cheek. “What is it, princess?”  
“I love you,” Harry said in a high voice and swallowed past his lump. This is it, he thought, looking into Louis’ confused eyes. Now he will push me away.  
“I love you, too,” Louis said back easily, and Harry could tell that was not it.  
“No, Lou, I love you,” Harry said then, letting Louis’ hand go and taking a step back. “I love you,” he repeated for good measure.  
He could see the realisation click in Louis as his eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but then closed it again, repeating the movement several times. Harry would have found it funny if he did not want the ground to swallow him at that very moment. It’s like he went to the battle already knowing it was lost. A man could still have hope though.  
“Lou! Are you ready?”  
They both snapped their heads to the side and saw Eleanor running up the stairs with a smile. She stopped halfway up the stairs when she saw them.  
“What-”  
“No worries,” Harry said, giving Louis one last look and taking the first step down. “Have a good trip,” he said, speeding past her. He didn’t look back and didn’t hear their voices, although he couldn’t tell if it was because they did not speak or because of the buzzing in his ears.  
Harry slept all through the day and night, waking up only once when Niall brought him tea and sandwiches.


	7. Chapter 7

That Friday’s night Harry came to the pub not knowing what he wanted to do. He spent the whole day thinking through what he told Louis and his absolutely useless reaction, which gave Harry zero answers. He wanted to listen to Harold’s advice and take the week to think it all through, but as of today, he failed. He thought about how tomorrow he and Louis would have left for Cornwall for the sweet seven days together. That would have probably been the ideal time to tell Louis how he felt. If not ideal, then certainly better then confessing love on a landing.  
He spent about half an hour staring through his puffy eyes at their reservation this morning and hovering the mouse on the cancel button but couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he saw someone else struggle so much over a stupid trip, he would have thought they were being dramatic.  
Lewis was singing one of his heartbreak ballads on the stage, and Harry felt like singing along. Although that would have been more like whining along – his chest felt raw; if he had to paint it right now, he would do it in reds and pinks, he thought to himself. He did not have eyes in the back of his head, but he would bet a limb people were dancing between tables and by the stage right now. Would it be too obvious if he danced alone?  
“Harry?”  
He lifted his head from the bar and saw Zayn.  
“You alright?”  
“Yeah, just… Not the best mood today.”  
“You look tired.”  
“I actually slept for twenty-five hours straight.”  
Zayn whistled and Harry noticed that he was not behind the bar. He frowned.  
“Are you working today?”  
Zayn smiled.  
“No, just having a night out.”  
“Oh,” Harry said, looking around. People were, indeed, dancing. It looked like a lullaby, almost. If lullabies could look, that is. Harry was not sure lullabies were meant to be danced. He blinked and turned back at Zayn. “Are you on your own?”  
“Yep.”  
“Your mates couldn’t make it?”  
“I don’t have mates.”  
Harry raised his eyebrows and felt his eyes open up more. Which was nice, considering he spent the whole day trying to see through half closed eyelids. His body did not like too much sleep. Or heartbreak – either of those two. He blinked a few times and Zayn chuckled. Harry blinked another time and finally dropped his eyebrows. He took a sip of his drink.  
“No mates? How?”  
Zayn shrugged.  
“I’m friendly with people, but I don’t have people to go out with, if that makes sense.”  
“It doesn’t.”  
Zayn smiled and shrugged again, indicating he had nothing more to add.  
“Are you seeing someone, then?”  
Zayn contemplated him for a minute, like he was an art dealer and couldn’t decide what price to assign to him. Harry’s cheeks grew hotter by the second. Finally, Zayn smiled, and Harry felt the pressure lift.  
“I’m not, actually.”  
“Don’t you need to talk to someone?”  
“Not really. I mean,” Zayn trailed off and watched the couples slow-dancing for a while; he seemed to be miles away. Harry was about to nudge him, but the man beat him to it, still addressing the couples, “I mean, I do talk to people, in class and here at the bar. I’m talking to you right now, ain’t I?”  
“I guess?”  
Zayn looked at him and smiled, endeared. Up until that point, Harry didn’t know Zayn’s face could do that expression.  
“People find me quite attractive.”  
“I bet,” Harry murmured, taking another sip. Zayn gave him that smile once again. Harry shifted and dropped his gaze.  
“My point is, a lot of people want to talk to me, but they want to do it only to sleep with me, which is not something I’m looking for. Like, all those people make it hard to find someone I can make conversation with, you know? And I love sex and all, but I want it to be in a relationship, if possible, not casual.”  
“I don’t think I do, really. Have you never had casual sex?”  
“No, I have, I do, quite regularly, actually. I broke up with my girlfriend about a year ago and I haven't met anyone new yet. So, I have to make do,” Zayn said, shrugging.  
“But you don’t enjoy it?”  
“I… I enjoy the physical aspect of it, but I would prefer to have it with someone I’m already close to. I don’t want to have sex just to have a release.”  
Harry stared at the glass of whisky in front of him, as the amber liquid and the ice cubes glistened. He sighed.  
“I actually don’t know my opinion on this anymore,” he said, still looking at the glass and thinking through the last month of his life. “I used to only have casual sex, didn’t mind that at all, but for the last few weeks I haven’t taken anyone home.”  
“Is it because you looked like you do today?”  
Harry turned to glare, but laughed reluctantly. He sighed.  
“Blokes did approach me and everything, I just didn’t want to.”  
“Maybe it’s time for a change in your life.”  
“Abstenance?”  
Zayn rolled his eyes.  
“Start a relationship with someone you like, Harry. See what that feels like.”  
Harry thought about Louis, and a sharp pain scratched him in the chest. He looked at the tables again.  
“It’s not that easy.”  
“That’s true,” Zayn said easily, and Harry looked up at him. “But if you start looking, you will find something eventually. And if you just sit here and wallow, I doubt you’d find anything.”  
“But you haven’t found anyone, have you?”  
“Well, then it means it’s not the time yet.”  
“You make it sound so easy.”  
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Zayn said, lifting an imaginary hat off his head. Harry smiled, albeit reluctantly. “I like you, you know.”  
Harry’s stomach swooshed.  
“In what sense?”  
“In a sense that I would totally not mind making love to you. Or going out with you.”  
Harry swallowed and looked down at his glass. His body felt hot, and he pulled the tee fabric away to let some air in.  
“Did I just embarrass Harry Styles?” Zayn asked, tilting his head forward to catch his eye.  
“You wish. So? Whose place?”  
“Mine.”  
Harry followed Zayn out the pub, effectively shunning his feelings for the first time after waking up.  
Sex was nice, Harry thought that night. It was nice because it gave him the other person to focus on instead of himself and his emotional turmoil. It was nice because it made him feel something other than regret and guilt. But once he laid beside Zayn in bed, sweaty and panting, all his thoughts started filing back in, and no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes, they wouldn’t leave till the next time.  
And it arrived quite soon, actually. The next time, that is. He stayed at Zayn’s place that night and woke up to the smell of burnt bacon. When he opened his eyes and looked at the kitchen part of Zayn’s studio, he saw him doing something by the stove top, cursing under his breath.  
“You alright?” Harry asked, sitting up on the mattress. Zayn turned out to only own a mattress, with no actual bed, so Harry was pretty low above the ground.  
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine,” Zayn said, giving the plate a suspicious look. “Are you by any chance a fan of a burnt breakfast?”  
Harry smiled and shook his head.  
“Depends on what you mean by ‘burnt’,” he said, pushing himself onto his feet. He put on his clothes before coming up to Zayn.  
The bacon was definitely burnt. Harry sighed. Zayn’s shoulders dropped, and he looked down, sighing too.  
“Guess we are just going to make do with the eggs, then.”  
He sent the bacon into the bin.  
“It’s alright. Thank you for cooking it, by the way.”  
Harry briefly squeezed his waist before he stepped back.  
Zayn smiled.  
“No problem. Have a seat.”  
Harry sat down, thanking Zayn when he got his plate, and his thoughts went back to the reason he was there in the first place. Louis.  
He remembered how Louis burnt quite a few meals in their teenage years. Once they tried to surprise Johannah and cook for her, but ended up having to open every single window in the house to let the smell out before she came home. Another time was their first year at uni when Louis asked Harry to teach him how to cook because he felt bad for relying on Liam all the time or ordering take-aways. That time they managed to save it, but only because Harry was there to notice it. Gemma always joked that something went wrong in the universe if Louis Tomlinson could possibly not learn something as simple as cooking. Harry thought that he would gladly cook for Louis any time and teach him for as long as he would want him to.  
“Harry? Mate, you with me?”  
Harry frowned and looked up from his plate – he hadn’t touched his eggs. Zayn’s hand was covering his own, which seemed to be gripping the fork too hard. Harry released it and leant back in the chair, tangling his fingers in his hair.  
“Sorry.”  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“Talk about what?” Harry snapped. Zayn recoiled slightly, and Harry exhaled, shaking his head and hiding his face in his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out on you. ‘m sorry.”  
“It’s okay. Just if you want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you, I’m here, alright?” he said and watched Harry till he nodded. Zayn smiled. “And do eat the eggs, I swear they are edible.”  
They finished their breakfast with Zayn talking about his job at the bar, and how funny people are when they are drunk, while Harry was listening and humming in all the right places to show that he was present. After Zayn cleared away their plates, he turned to Harry.  
“Do you want to hang out today?” he asked casually, but Harry noticed him fumbling with his tee on the back. Harry smiled, trying to mean it.  
“Sure, I don’t have any plans,” he said and saw Zayn drop his hand. Harry wiggled his eyebrows with a smile, and Zayn smiled back. “Do you have to work today?”  
“Yeah, I’ve got a night shift. But I’m free till then.”  
“Perfect,” Harry said, clasping his hands together. “Any plans or preferences?”  
“How about we go see a movie? I know a nice place, they donate all their profit.”  
Harry raised his eyebrows.  
“Is it the reason you choose where to go?”  
Zayn shrugged.  
“It’s just a nice bonus, I suppose. They are all the same if you think about it, but if there is that extra something, why not.”  
“Alright, cinema it is.”  
***  
After walking Zayn to the pub, Harry went home that night. The flat was silent when he entered, but when he made his way to the room, Niall popped out from his own door.  
“Is everything okay?”  
“Why?” Harry frowned, his hand hovering above the door handle.  
“You didn’t answer my calls, I was worried.”  
“I...what?” Harry shook his head, stepping closer to him. He clapped his pockets and fished out his phone.  
“Oh, shit, the battery must have died. Sorry Nialler. My bad.”  
“Where were you, anyway?”  
Harry felt trapped for a second, but then stood up straighter and crossed his arms.  
“With someone, why?”  
“Was it that Harold lad?”  
“Look, mate, I’m sorry, but that’s none of your business.”  
Niall raised his eyebrows and his face hardened. Harry squeezed his biceps but felt no pain.  
“Fine,” Niall said quietly and returned back to his room.  
When the doors shut, Harry dropped his hands and felt his facade drop, too. He entered his own room and fell facedown onto the bed before the glass in his doors rang its horrible sound.  
After failing to fall asleep again that night, he texted Zayn around midnight and left the flat for his place instead. Harry and Zayn spend the next few days approximately the same way they did Saturday, and every time Harry came back home, Niall ignored him.

On Tuesday Harry invited Zayn over to his place. He offered to cook pasta for Zayn before his shift at the bar, so late afternoon found them in the closed kitchen, Harry by the counters and Zayn by his side, stealing tomatoes from under the knife.  
“Hey, stop! I could have cut you!”  
“Is that a threat?”  
“It’s a warning. So, be careful.”  
Harry pointed the knife at him.  
Zayn stepped closer and kissed him, hugging his waist. Harry dropped the knife and kissed Zayn back, bringing a hand to the bony hip. Too late, he realized later, he heard the doors open and Niall curse. Harry tore away immediately while Zayn smiled at Niall.  
“What’s up, Nialler?”  
“Hello to you, too,” Niall grumbled and deposited a plate smeared with red sauce into the sink. “Pasta, is it?” he asked, sniffing the air.  
“Want some?” Zayn asked, leaning against the counter, while Harry just watched them, a mixture of annoyance and shame fighting within him.  
Niall glanced at Harry and shook his head at Zayn.  
“I think I’m full, to be honest. Just had a bunch of tacos.”  
Niall clapped his tummy to demonstrate his point. Harry wanted to grin endearingly but caught himself just in time.  
“Never thought I’d hear you refuse free food,” Zayn said, glancing at Harry with an amused face. Harry tried to smile back, but Zayn didn’t seem to notice his struggle.  
“Well, the world is full of surprises, ain’t it, H?” Niall asked but didn’t wait for the answer before opening the fridge. Harry just hummed something indistinguishable and pretended to be busy with his pasta. He heard Niall shut the fridge. “Alright, enjoy your dinner, lads, sorry I interrupted.”  
“Thanks,” they both said, Harry much quieter than Zayn. When Niall left, Zayn turned to him, frowning, but amused.  
“Are you two alright?”  
“Yeah, we are fine. Just had a fight about who’s getting the garbage out, no biggie,” Harry said to the pan.  
“Alright,” Zayn said, not sounding convinced. “Alright,” he repeated quieter, more to himself.  
“So, where were we?” Harry asked then, plastering on a smile.  
Harry was fine, he really was, except the times when he desperately wished that it was Louis by his side. But then he told himself that he was fine. He wasn’t, though, that’s the thing.  
He saw Zayn to the bus stop for his night shift at the bar and walked back home, internally grateful he didn’t have to explain Zayn to Niall because, well, they weren’t talking. He couldn’t tell why, but he felt guilty in front of Niall lately, even though he did nothing wrong to him.  
When he entered the flat, Niall was already waiting in the corridor, arms crossed. Harry’s mouth felt parched, but he faked indifference and successfully ignored Niall for the whole five seconds.  
“Care to explain?”  
Harry took his time toeing off the shoes and finally looked up, a heavy weight in his stomach.  
“Explain what, exactly?”  
“Why the hell are you going out with Zayn?”  
Harry looked at Niall for a whole minute, watching as he fidgeted under his gaze. Harry did not like seeing Niall uncomfortable, but he disliked the horrible feeling of everyone being unjust to him even more. So he raised his eyebrows and mirrored Niall’s posture.  
“Do I need to have your permission?”  
Niall ‘s eyes went wide for a second, but then he dropped his gaze to his feet, shaking his head.  
“You know that Liam likes him, H, why are you doing this?”  
“Maybe I like him, too?”  
Niall looked up.  
“Do you, now? What happened to your feelings for-”  
“Don’t.”  
“Then come back to your fucking senses!” Niall said louder, pointing to his room. “You will break Zayn’s heart and Liam’s too while you are at it.”  
“This is none of your business, Niall!” Harry shouted, all the pent up feelings from last week finally finding release.  
Niall looked taken aback and took a moment to recover. Oh, how Harry hated fighting with people. When Niall spoke, his voice sounded disappointed:  
“And then who will tell you when you screw up?”  
Harry looked down at the floor.  
“I will sort it out on my own, I don’t need your help.”  
He felt tears in his eyes and up his nose, and he willed himself not to cry. Niall sighed, and Harry felt the remnants of fight leave both of them.  
“You are not a jerk, H, so please stop acting like one.”  
Harry looked up, and for a few moments they gazed at each other. Then, Niall walked past him, clapping him on the shoulder. He stopped by his door, though Harry did not turn to look at him. He only heard a quiet question,  
“I know who you are, H, but do you?”  
Harry’s head snapped back, but Niall had already closed the door. Harry blinked at it for a long moment. When he blinked again, tears started falling.  
He couldn’t fall asleep, which did not surprise him now. He didn’t text Zayn, instead throwing his phone into the lowest drawer of the desk. When it was finally dark outside, the moon illuminating half his room, he sat down at his table and got out a pen and some paper. He stared at it for a while, till he heard Niall in the kitchen. He looked at his watch and saw that it was past midnight already. Niall seemed unable to fall asleep, too. Guilt gnawed at Harry’s stomach, but he ignored it. Niall’s words from earlier came to him.  
Do I know who I am?  
Do you?  
Do you know who you are?  
He wrote on and on, crossing out some lines and leaving others. He ended up throwing away whole sheets of paper, or rather, crumpling them up and throwing them around the room randomly. But then, when the sky began to lighten, he leant back in the chair, content. He got up and stretched, feeling like now he definitely deserved some sleep. He looked at the song on the paper and bent down to write the title. Lights Up.  
He fell asleep before his head hit the pillow and dreamt of eating pizza and stealing kisses from Louis in between bites. It was a good dream. The first good dream in a long while.

***  
Harry woke up when he felt somebody’s eyes on him. He had his back to the door when he opened his eyes and blinked against the sunlit room. He looked at the wall in front of him and contemplated turning around and talking to Niall. He didn’t feel ready to face him yet. But maybe it wasn’t Niall, it wasn’t anyone, and Harry was just being silly. He sat up and almost jumped, bringing his hand to his heart.  
“Sweet mother of Jesus, Lou!”  
Harry panted, still sat on the bed, and Louis gave him an apologetic smile but didn’t say anything.  
Louis.  
Louis was here.  
Harry tried to come up with explanations for how he could possibly fall asleep on Tuesday and wake up on Saturday, but he couldn’t find any. Either he had amnesia, or Louis came back early. Harry swallowed, not daring to believe his thoughts.  
He looked at Louis more closely, still stood in the middle of the room and looking lost. He was fumbling with a grey beanie in his hands, and Harry looked at his tousled hair. He had a huge backpack on his shoulders, and his hoodie and jeans looked crumpled.  
“Are you- Do you- Did-” Harry kept trying but words wouldn’t come to him. Louis looked up again and smiled softly. When he spoke, his voice was just as fragile as he looked:  
“Can we talk?”  
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Of course,” Harry said and remembered that he was, technically, having a guest. He got out of bed, hastily pulled on yesterday’s jeans and tee. “Sorry, just a second,” he murmured, quickly making the bed.  
He could tell Louis was watching because his cheeks kept burning from the intent gaze. He finally put the covers on and straightened up, his arms suddenly too long for his body. Louis was still smiling uncertainly and biting his cheek. Harry gestured to his bed, and Louis nodded, finally moving to sit down on the edge of it.  
“Maybe you could take off your backpack?” Harry asked tentatively, still up.  
“Yeah,” Louis said distractedly, “yeah, you are right.”  
Harry took it from him and placed it under his table. He sat down on the bed beside him, and they both stared at the opposite wall. The awkwardness was palpable, but Harry didn’t know what to say. He thought his hair must be a right mess, but then Louis would probably pay no mind to it. Finally, Louis heaved a sigh, and Harry felt cold all over.  
“So, about what you said that time.”  
Harry looked at him.  
“Yeah?”  
“I,” Louis looked at his knees – his fingers were drawing little circles there. He frowned and went on, still not looking up, “I haven’t exactly figured out what- how I feel about it, but- Erm,” he messed up his hair. Harry felt like a string stretched too tight, ready to break any second now. Suddenly, Louis curled up and hid his head in his knees. “God, why is it so hard?” he asked in a high-pitched voice, and that was it. Harry scooped closer and hugged him by the shoulders – and Louis leant into it. Relief spread through Harry, and he rested his head on top of Louis’.  
“We can talk about it later, if you want.”  
“I don’t think that would help, princess.”  
Harry smiled.  
“Why did you come back, anyway?”  
Louis hid his face in Harry’s shoulder, and Harry brought his other arm around him.  
“I don’t think El and I are working,” he said, and his breath burnt through Harry’s tee. “Remember the talk about being open and vulnerable?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I think we did it too soon.”  
“Do you mean sex?” Harry asked tentatively, and Louis looked up, frowning. Harry grinned involuntarily. God he missed that frown.  
“Not everything is about sex, H. And no,” Louis said, bringing his head to Harry’s shoulder again. “I just didn’t feel comfortable, I dunno. And I could tell she wasn’t into it, either.”  
“They say taking a trip with someone is a good test for a relationship. Along with repairing a house.”  
“Guess we didn’t pass it, then.”  
“Did you break up?”  
“Yeah. It wasn’t, like, a big fight or anything. We just talked about it yesterday and changed our tickets.”  
“That’s… nice?”  
Louis looked up from his place on Harry’s shoulder. Harry wiggled his eyebrows at him.  
“Tea?” he asked.  
“Thought you’d never offer.”  
Harry gave him another smile and squeezed his shoulder before getting up. He glanced back at him before leaving, just to make sure he was, indeed, there. Louis smiled and looked down at his knees. Harry closed the doors to his room softly and went to the kitchen.  
He still felt something fluttering in his stomach at the shock of Louis’ sudden appearance when he went about preparing their tea. Louis broke up with Eleanor. Harry closed his eyes for a second and let the realisation sink in. Maybe, just maybe, they would go out together. Maybe Louis will allow him to woo him for just one night? An image of blushing Louis came to his mind and Harry smiled before opening his eyes. He glanced at the clock – it was nearing eleven.  
He found Louis in the same position he left him five minutes ago, sat on the bed and looking nowhere in particular.  
“Tea,” Harry said unnecessarily and gave Louis his cup.  
“Thanks,” Louis muttered and didn’t add anything else. Harry put his cup on the table and noticed the song from yesterday. Heart beating fast, he glanced at Louis, who was now gazing into his tea. Harry quickly hid the paper into his drawer and sat down by Louis’ side. He bit his lip and asked, voice tentative:  
“Do you want to talk about us?”  
Louis nodded at the tea.  
“I just don’t know how to articulate it,” Louis said, and it was Harry who nodded now.  
“Oh-kay,” he drew out. “How about I ask and you answer? And if you have questions, do the same?”  
“Yeah, alright.”  
“Alright… Okay, I start,” he took in a deep breath and felt as if he was about to do skydiving here; not that he ever did, but still. He had a good imagination. “Do you want to stay friends? Or would you like to give us a try? As a couple,” he said everything really fast and it took Louis a moment to take it all in.  
Louis took a deep breath, in which Harry heard a tremble. He wanted nothing more but to hug him. Louis closed his eyes and gripped the cup till his knuckles went white.  
“I don’t think I’ve processed the news, exactly. I know it’s been a few days, but I was trying to figure out my relationship with El, and I don’t think I thought it through carefully. Is that alright?”  
“Of course. Do you need time to think about us?”  
“Yeah, I…” he looked up, looking guilty. “If that’s alright with you.”  
“Of course,” Harry repeated, and Louis nodded again, hanging his head again. “Hey,” Harry put his cup on the floor and scooted closer. Louis looked up at him, eyes confused and even a tad scared. “Come here,” Harry said, opening his arms and Louis relaxed visibly. He dropped the cup beside Harry’s and returned to his place in Harry’s arms. They ended up just the way they sat not fifteen minutes ago. “Better?” Harry asked into his hair.  
“Definitely.”  
“Good.”  
They sat in silence for a long while, their breathing the only sound in the room. At some point they heard Niall treading into the kitchen to prepare his breakfast, but neither of them moved at the sound. Harry even thought Louis must have fallen asleep and didn’t dare move in case he’d wake him up, but then Louis scratched his nose.  
“Lou?” Harry said then.  
“Princess?”  
“You still have your question. I asked you one, I owe you one now.”  
“Oh, right,” Louis said, clearly not having a question.  
“You don’t have to ask right away. Just, you know, putting it out there. I’m ready if you are.”  
Louis chuckled breathily.  
“I’ll keep that in mind.”  
They almost fell back into their comfortable silence when Harry remembered something.  
“Oh, shit,” he said, sitting up straighter. Louis pulled away and looked at him curiously. He had a line from where Harry’s tee folded under his cheek.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I’ll understand, you just came back, but, eh,” Harry said, looking around aimlessly. Louis frowned deeper. “I booked us a small cottage in Cornwall, and I wanted to tell you, but you wanted to go with El, so I didn’t that day. But I, eh, I didn’t cancel it, so if you would like to-”  
“How many days have we got?”  
“Till Saturday,” Harry said, smiling despite himself. “Would you like to go?”  
“Of course!” Louis said, jumping off the bed, a matching grin on his face. “I felt like such a shit cancelling on you – this is wonderful, princess!”  
“Shh, you’ll wake Niall up.”  
“He’s already awake,” Louis said, taking Harry’s laptop from the table and plopping back onto the bed. “Come on, we need tickets.”  
“Do you want to leave today?”  
“If you don’t mind.”  
Harry grinned and almost kissed Louis on the temple but caught himself just in time.


	8. Chapter 8

The air was chilly by the time they arrived, although the sky was still light. They walked up to the main house, Harry leading the way.  
“Do you know which one we are in?” Louis asked from behind him, panting slightly.  
Harry squinted at the three adjacent cottages, all beige, and pointed to the one on the right.  
“This one, I think.”  
They stopped at the door, and Harry knocked – there was no bell. Louis smiled at him, and he replied with a smile of his own, feeling unusually nervous. They heard quick footsteps, and the doors swung open to reveal a plump little lady with red curls peeking from under a white kerchief.  
“There you are! Welcome! Harry, is it?”  
“Yes, that’s right. And you are Mrs Goldstein?”  
“Oh, call me Bridget, please.”  
Harry smiled wider and bowed a little.  
“This is Louis, by the way,” he pointed to him, and Louis nodded with a polite smile. “I’ve booked the cottage for two, right?”  
“Of course, there will be two twin beds in yours, no worries,” she said and took the keys before joining them on the porch. “Come on, I’ll show you everything.”  
They followed her along the path across the little garden and up to the three small cottages the family ran. All the short way to their house Bridget kept talking:  
“Rob had just been in town this morning, so your fridge will be fully stocked. You’ll also find pasta and tea in the pantry. There is TV, board games and bicycles in the shed. If you need them, feel free to take them, you don’t have to ask me. The shed is over there, see? The town is not too far off, so you can reach it on bikes – my granddaughter does it all the time, so you two should have no problem. Alright, what else? Any questions?”  
They stopped by the door, and she looked at them inquiringly. They shook their heads, and her smile widened.  
“Well, if anything, you know where to find me. Alright,” she said, turning to unlock the door. “I’ll show you inside.”  
Harry let Louis in first and followed, Bridget already inside. The first thing he saw was a small fireplace on the right, which was, understandably, without a fire.  
“I don’t think it will be cold enough for you to kindle, but if you want a fire, just let me know, and we’ll get some firewood,” Bridget said, noticing his stare.  
“I was just looking,” Harry said with a smile, and Louis snorted softly. Harry showed him his tongue when Bridget started explaining again:  
“That’s the kitchen,” she said, pointing to the left, opposite the little living room with the fireplace and two sofas. “It’s rather small, of course, but it has everything you’ll need, dears,” she proceeded to open the pantry and the fridge, Harry and Louis nodding to show that they were listening. There was a small TV right by the main door, near the kitchen counters, with a stack of board games on the nearby shelf.  
“Let’s see the rooms, shall we?”  
She led the way further inside, turning to the left right behind the kitchen.  
“That’s the small bathroom,” she said, pointing to the door in the corridor. “And here is the first bedroom,” she opened the door at the end of the corridor, revealing an off-white bedroom with a double bed, curtains with birds on them, and framed drawings of Cornwall on the walls.  
“That’s lovely,” Louis said quietly.  
“It was Mary, my daughter, she furnished all the rooms. Talented, isn’t she?”  
“It does look very cosy,” Harry nodded as they left the room and turned into another corridor.  
“Thank you, dear. This is the second bedroom, with two beds,” she opened another door to a similar room, which had indeed two beds and a small balcony with two chairs and a table.  
“It has a balcony!” Louis said, and Harry felt just as happy about it, even though he saw it when he booked the cottage.  
“And a bigger bathroom in the en-suite,” Bridget said, walking across the room. They opened the door and saw not only a toilet, but a proper bath with two dressing gowns on the door. Louis looked at Harry with an open mouth, and Harry shrugged, feeling rather smug.  
“The bath and balcony get the guests every time,” Bridget said, observing them, and Louis closed his mouth, blushing a little. “Well, this is it, I’m afraid,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Harry, could I have a word?”  
He tore his gaze away from Louis and nodded.  
“Of course.”  
They walked out of the room, leaving Louis to wait out his blush and unpack.  
Bridget stopped in the living room area and turned to face him.  
“Harry, dear, you paid for a whole week.”  
“Would that be a problem?”  
“Oh, of course not!” Bridget said with a kind smile. “Of course not,” she repeated, palming her front pocket. “Here,” she said, handing him the money. Harry stepped back.  
“No, Mrs- Bridget, please, I’ve booked it for the whole week, and you couldn’t have other guests at this time, it’s not fair.”  
Bridget raised her eyebrows.  
“I won’t hear anything about it, love,” she said, sternly but not unkindly. “This is the money for the days you didn’t spend here. It’s yours, take it,” she said, handing him the notes. Harry shook his head again.  
“But it’s not your fault I couldn’t come earlier. Bridget, please.”  
“God knows I never had to talk a student into taking money,” she said, shaking her head. “Come on, you are not the first person to do that, and we always return the money. I’m sure Mary put it on the web-page.”  
Harry squinted at her suspiciously, and Bridget chuckled.  
“Dear, do you think I’d lie to you to make you take your money?”  
“Harry? Everything alright?” Louis asked from the corridor, and they both turned to look at him.  
“Yeah,” Harry said automatically, as Bridget said:  
“Only your friend wouldn’t take his money, Louis. Help me talk sense into him.”  
Louis raised his eyebrows, looking incredulous.  
Harry looked from one to the other and sighed, reaching out for the notes.  
“I’ll take us out to a restaurant or something,” he said, pocketing it, and Bridget squeezed his shoulder.  
“And I know just the place in town – ask me the address before you go.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Yeah, thank you, Bridget,” Louis said, waving as she opened the door.  
“Enjoy your stay, dears.”  
“Goodbye.”  
The doors closed, and Harry turned to Louis.  
“Restaurant, huh?” Louis asked, smiling. Harry shrugged.  
“I planned to spend that money on the trip, I don’t know what else I can do with it.”  
“You are way too generous for a student, princess,” Louis walked into the living room. He crossed his arms when he stopped in front of Harry.  
“Well,” Harry said, sitting down on one of the sofa’s arms and crossing his arms, too. “Money spent on friends is money well spent, if you ask me.”  
Louis smiled, wide and sincere. The next moment the smile turned to a yawn, which prompted a chuckle out of Harry.  
“Tired?”  
“A bit, yeah. Haven’t slept in more than a day.”  
“Come on,” Harry got up and brought his arm around Louis’ shoulders, leading the way to their room. “Oh, by the way,” he said as they saw the doors to the first bedroom. “I won’t get mad if you want to take the first room.”  
“With the big bed and birds? And leave the bath and balcony to you? Fat chance.”  
Harry giggled, exhaustion hitting him, too. It was barely nine though. They reached the end of the second corridor and he held the doors open for Louis, gesturing for him to come in.  
“Make yourself at home.”  
“Thank you, my lord,” Louis bowed a little, lips fighting a smile, and stepped past him, Harry following suit.  
“Do you want to take the shower first?” he asked when he saw Louis grab his pyjamas. Harry plopped down on the bed and Louis scrunched his nose at him.  
“Yeah. And just so you know, you are getting your covers dirty right now. That disturbs me,” Louis pointed the hand holding his blue pyjamas at him. Harry turned on his side and propped himself up on an elbow.  
“First of all,” Harry held out a finger. “I live with Niall, who basically had his feet on my pillow every weekend when we lived in the dorms, which makes me immune to that. Second of all,” Harry pinched his middle finger with the other hand, “I’m not going to sleep on the covers. Third of all,” his thumb stuck out and Louis frowned.  
“That’s not a phrase.”  
“What?”  
“Nobody says 'third of all’.”  
“Well, I do. So, third of all,” Harry raised his hand with three fingers sticking out and Louis sighed. “I accept myself and all my germs, thank you very much.”  
Louis made a show of rolling his eyes, and Harry collapsed onto his back, smiling.  
“Don’t use up all the hot water, petal.”  
Louis stopped by the bathroom door.  
“As if I’d ever do that.”  
“The nicest person in the room.”  
“That I am,” Louis said before closing the doors.  
Harry let out a tired ‘umpf’ as he struggled up. He cracked his neck to each side and stretched his hands above his head, looking around. The room was almost dark now, so he couldn’t make out the pictures on the walls, except that they had a wide white framing around them. He squinted at one by the window near Louis’ bed, when he heard a squeak and the doors were flung open. A very panicked Louis appeared with a towel clutched to his front, otherwise naked. He was panting, a dark figure in the yellow light of the bathroom. Harry raised his eyebrows, feeling calmer each second, as he watched Louis look around.  
“What happened? Did you see a monster or something?”  
“Yes! A big, black, hairy, revolting,” Louis said as he tied the towel around his waist, “the most disgusting-”  
Harry smiled, as bizarre as it must be in this situation.  
“Did you see a spider?” he asked, turning on the lights. Louis squinted against it and Harry noticed that he was blushing.  
“Yes!” he cried. “Make it go, princess, please,” bringing his hands together in prey. Harry sighed, smiling.  
“Seriously, petal, you are going to have to learn to deal with spiders one day,” he said as he took off his shoes before walking into the bathroom. “You know, girls usually are scared of those, too. And I don’t think your kids will be fond of them, either.”  
Louis just watched him enter the room which he clearly thought dangerous to be in for now, and didn’t respond. Harry looked around and frowned at him.  
“Where was it?”  
“On the curtain,” Louis said timidly and Harry couldn’t help a fond smile, face turned away from Louis.  
He took the curtain and pulled it to the side, so that it would stretch wide. Louis stepped back, even though he wasn’t in the bathroom.  
“It won’t bite,” Harry said. “There you are,” he bent forwards and took the little thing into his palm, closing it so that it wouldn’t run away.  
“Done,” Harry said, walking out. Louis stepped further away from him, watching his hand with wide eyes.  
“Could you let it out by the door and not on the balcony?”  
“Sure.”

When he came back, Louis was in the bathroom once again, the water running.  
“No more spiders?” Harry shouted as he rummaged through his bag.  
“No! Thank you!”  
“No problem!”  
Harry’s phone buzzed in his back pocket.  
Zayn: wanna meet at mine tonight?  
Harry’s heart gave a painful lurch, and his stomach did the same. He made himself breathe before locking the screen and pocketing the phone again.  
Louis emerged soon after, skin rosy and hair wet. Harry got up from his place on the bed as Louis walked past with an averted gaze.  
“Alright, petal?”  
“Yeah,” Louis threw his towel over a chair and looked at Harry before averting his eyes again. “I’m sorry I ran out, like, naked. It was just, you know, an emergency.”  
“It’s fine, yeah? I’ve seen you naked plenty of times, it’s no big deal,” Harry said as he approached the bathroom door.  
Louis raised his eyebrows, some of the timidness leaving him. He crossed his arms.  
“When did you see me naked, exactly?”  
“Oh, you know, that time you lost your swimming trunks in Greece,” Louis opened his mouth to retaliate but Harry beat him to it, “Or on the old pictures Jo showed us at one of your birthdays.”  
“I was eight when we were in Greece! And you swore you hadn’t seen anything!”  
Harry shrugged, half hidden behind the bathroom door now.  
“What do you mean?” Louis mimicked his shrug. He walked around the bed and towards Harry, probably thinking he looked threatening. Harry only saw an angry kitten, really. “Huh? Did you lie to me, princess?”  
Harry grinned and closed the doors before Louis could make the last jump towards him. He heard a thump on the door and leant against the other side of it.  
“Are you alright?” he asked, still smiling.  
“Wanker,” Louis said with another thump, and Harry heard the bed creak after a few moments. He chuckled to himself and dropped his towel on the lowered toilet seat, the whole room still in steam after Louis’ shower.  
“Were you trying to boil something here? There is so much steam I can barely see through it,” he said, taking off his t-shirt.  
“Maybe you should get your vision checked, then.”  
“Lo-”  
Love you, too is what almost escaped his lips, and Harry had to physically cover his mouth before he induced another awkward silence between them. He breathed in the silence of the room, almost afraid to do it too loudly, and looked at his legs, jeans tying his ankles together. He took them off all the way and straightened up.  
“Are you ignoring me?” Louis’ voice came in through the wall, followed by a dull knock. Harry pulled down his boxers and snickered.  
“I can’t really speak, the spiders are eating me, sorry. Have nobody to help me.”  
Harry stepped into the shower and turned on the water, hissing at the hotness of it.  
“Stop it, will you?” Louis whined through the wall, muffled even more by the water. Harry fixed the temperature to his liking and looked at the curtain as if he could see Louis.  
“Weren’t you tired?”  
Harry poured shampoo into his palm and started lathering his hair.  
“I am, yeah.”  
Harry could barely make out his words now and left those without an answer. He continued with his shower, taking his time, so that by the time he emerged out of it he felt squeaky clean.  
He dried his hair on the towel as much as he could, threw it over the shower-curtain’s rail, and hurried into the bed and under the clean (he hoped) covers. He let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes, feeling ready to fall asleep.  
“Princess?” came the tiny question from his left. “Are you sleeping?”  
Harry raised his head and squinted through the darkness. He made out a head of tousled hair, which would be a mess in the morning, peeking from under the pile of covers that must have been Louis.  
“Are you cold?” Harry asked, noticing all the blankets. “Do you feel alright?” he sat up, hand hovering above his blanket, ready to check on Louis.  
“No, no, I’m fine,” Louis hurried to say, raising up on one elbow. “Honestly. Don’t worry.”  
“You sure? I can bring you your medicine kit if you want.”  
“How do you even know I have one?”  
“Because I know you know I won’t have one.”  
“Too true,” Louis sighed and plopped back down. Harry was stayed seated. “No, really, princess, I’m not sick. I just couldn’t fall asleep so I thought, if you don’t want to sleep either, we could talk? But if you are sleepy, I’ll just go watch something, it’s fine,” Louis said and Harry pictured him shrug, even though he couldn’t see it in the dark. “You can lie down, you know,” Louis added then, and Harry acquiesced, still suspicious.  
They lay in silence for a few beats, both watching the ceiling. Harry started tapping a melody with his fingers on his bare chest, lips pursed.  
“Can I ask you something?” he said to the ceiling.  
“Yes?”  
“Did you tell Eleanor about what happened on your landing before she spotted us?”  
“No.”  
“Why?”  
There was a pause, in which Harry continued to tap his song and watch the ceiling. He didn’t know what Louis was doing, but he couldn’t hear even a stir. After a few minutes, he said:  
“It felt private, you know? Remember I told you I couldn’t be myself with her? Like, not fully? Even now I don’t exactly know what is it that didn’t click between us, or what side of myself I couldn’t reveal, but… I feel like whatever that part is, it concerns you.”  
“Me?”  
Harry felt hot all over, his fingers’ tap-dance slowing.  
“You,” Louis said and paused for a second. Harry stopped tapping, almost immobilised now. He could only stare at the ceiling and wait, every muscle tense. He heard Louis swallow in the dead silence of the room. “We talked about our childhood, and the friends we had. And obviously I told her about you, but I could never, like, talk about you, you know what I mean?”  
“Not really.”  
“Well, don’t get me wrong here, but I think I was jealous. Like, I didn’t want to share my memories of you because those are mine.”  
Harry felt another wave of warmth spread through him. He sneaked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying not to be loud with it. The moment felt too delicate.  
“Sounds like a compliment to me,” he said then, and he heard a gentle laugh.  
“It probably is, princess.”  
“Good.”  
Another silence, but this time Harry kept suppressing his smile, till he realised that the ceiling couldn’t exactly see him, and so he grinned wide and completely unashamed of it. For a moment he felt like he could explode like a balloon that had too much air in it.  
“So, yeah,” Louis said then, startling Harry. “When it came down to it, when we talked, I said I didn’t feel particularly comfortable in our relationship. Which was true, I suppose. And she agreed, so it must have not only been I who felt that way.”  
“Your break-up sounds so… chill?”  
Louis laughed again, quiet and breathy, and Harry finally turned his head to look at him. A laugh bubbled up in him, too, and for a moment they both giggled, watching each other in the dark. Finally, Louis took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face.  
“I feel a bit pathetic about it, to be honest.”  
“Why?”  
“Well,” Louis said, turning onto his side and bringing his hands under his cheek. Harry mirrored his posture. “Well, whenever I heard of break-ups before, they were always big, you know? Like, a significant point in one’s life. And for us it was just an occurrence, you know what I mean? Like obviously it wasn’t pleasant, but I don’t think either of us were particularly sad about it. Does that make sense?”  
“Yeah. It does. To me, at least.”  
“Good,” Louis yawned and Harry smiled at it. “It’s just a bit strange, you know?”  
“Well, I think it’s just we never hear about something normal or boring. That stuff is not interesting enough to be put in a movie, is it?”  
“Guess you are right.”  
“And if you both took it well, then that’s what matters,” Harry shrugged with one shoulder. “And now you won’t have to avoid each other if you have the same class or something.”  
“That’s true, princess. Thank you for the pep-talk.”  
“Thanks for sharing.”  
Harry saw a smile and felt pleasantly warm again.  
“Good night, princess.”  
“G’night.”

***

Harry opened his eyes against the sunlight. Had they not drawn the curtains last night?  
He sat up and looked around, noticing a made up bed to his left with no certain Louis Tomlinson occupying it. He saw movement on the balcony and looked there. Sure enough, Louis was leaning against the rails, curtains drawn to the side where the door was slightly ajar.  
Harry got out of his bed, careful not to make a sound, pulled on his jeans and a clean t-shirt, and padded across the room. The doors made a noise when he attempted to open them, and Louis turned around at once.  
“Oh,” he said and smiled. Harry stepped all the way out with an apologetic smile. “Morning, princess.”  
“Good morning,” Harry said as he came up and joined Louis in his contemplation of the grounds. The sky was clear today, and the air around them was warm.  
“Have you been up for long?” Harry asked, looking over and noticing Louis’ hair, which was sticking out every which way.  
“About ten minutes, I think. Sorry I left the curtains hanging, didn’t think about it.”  
“‘s alright.”  
A gust of warm wind blew Harry’s hair across his face and he shut his eyes. Louis let out a laugh.  
“Oh, shut up,” Harry muttered, throwing his hair back, but fondness still managed to make its way into his voice.  
“Ever thought of cutting them?”  
Louis was watching him with an amused grin, one elbow on the rail.  
“Nope. When I become a rockstar, those will be handy.”  
“A rockstar? Really?”  
“Oh shit,” Harry said and Louis frowned at him. He didn’t know, right. “Erm, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you, actually.”  
Louis raised an eyebrow, though his lips still bore the remnants of a smile.  
“Did you elope with a front man of a rock band?”  
Harry paused in gathering up his courage to frown at Louis.  
“Really? How did you even come up with that?”  
Louis shrugged, the grin finding its way back onto his face. He turned and leant forward with both hands, the hair at his back standing upright. Harry mirrored his posture and spoke the next words to the fields surrounding them:  
“I’ve been taking some guitar lessons from Niall lately.”  
“And?”  
Harry heard a smile in the question and sighed, dropping his head and letting it hang.  
“I’ve tried some songwriting. I’ve written a few pieces, actually, and Niall said they are decent.”  
“Did you, now?”  
Harry looked up and saw Louis still happy and content, and not particularly shocked at the news.  
“Why aren’t you surprised? Did somebody tell you already?”  
“Nope.”  
“Then why? How?”  
Louis shrugged and turned away again. Harry watched him till he spoke.  
“Is it why you painted your nails, then?”  
Harry frowned and looked at his hands. There was still some chopped off colour here and there. He closed it into a fist and straightened up.  
“Partly, yeah.”  
“Partly?”  
“I’m not ready to confess the other part that early in the morning.”  
Louis chuckled shortly.  
“I think it’s wonderful that you are doing music. It’s good you finally took it seriously. I’m happy for you, princess.”  
“You talk like it’s the most obvious thing.”  
“Harry, you had to be blind not to see you were longing to be on stage one day.”  
Harry raised his eyebrows. He blinked a few times, eyebrows going higher with each blink. Suddenly, Louis’ eyes went comically wide, too.  
“Don’t move,” he said and Harry froze. Louis was staring at his right shoulder and now Harry felt thin claws clutch at his t-shirt’s sleeve. “It’s a robin,” Louis whispered, taking a step forward. Harry swallowed, trying to not scare neither the bird nor Louis – the former by moving and the latter by rushed urges. Like kissing, for example. He could feel Louis’ heat with his whole body now, as the latter got onto his tippy toes and carefully rested a hand close to Harry’s collarbone. Harry held his breath, looking at the house or the sky – anywhere but Louis’ face, which was so close now.  
“There is a good fellow,” Louis muttered, taking his hand away and stepping back, a red-chested bird perched on his finger. He was smiling down at this strange little robin who was apparently not afraid of him. Harry let the air out on a long exhale and took a step back of his own. His knees hit one of the chairs and he plopped down onto it, the bird fluttering its wings at once.  
“For someone who is so afraid of spiders, you are remarkably fond of birds.”  
Louis looked away from their unexpected guest and up at Harry with the same small smile. He shrugged.  
“I’m surprised you don't like him.”  
“I don’t like birds,” Harry said, and, believe it or not, robin looked at him, pecked Louis’ palm, and took leave. They watched him fly to the ground – Louis with a smile and Harry with wide eyes.  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for him to leave.”  
“Maybe it’s a she,” Louis said, bringing his gaze back to Harry. “How about some breakfast?” he asked, stepping towards the doors. Harry got up.  
“Sure. Though I guess I’m cooking,” he waited for Louis to enter the room first, and followed him.  
“Well, you did scare off the bird. And I may burn our food, which is in limited supply.”  
Louis held the doors for him as they left the room.  
“That’s more like it.”  
“Such a supportive friend you are, princess,” Louis shook his head as they reached the kitchen. He made his way to the kettle and put it on when Harry headed for the fridge.  
“Well, I’m certainly the most supportive one,” he said.  
“Excuse me?”  
Harry looked over from his place by the fridge at Louis, who was sat at the table by now, eyebrows raised.  
“Am I not supportive enough for you?”  
Lips pursed, Harry tapped his chin with a finger of his free hand. The other one was clutching a package of eggs to his chest.  
“You’ve got any particular example in mind?” he said, closing the fridge with his bum. Louis huffed as Harry placed the eggs on the counter and opened the first cupboard in search of a pan.  
“How about when you decided to dye your hair blue? I was ready to go to the shop for the dye with you, wasn’t I?”  
Harry extracted the pan with a great clutter and straightened up, holding it in his hand like a club.  
“Wasn’t I fifteen back then? And, like, sleep-deprived or something?”  
“I think you just met a guy with pink hair and wanted to impress him,” Louis recited at once as Harry put the heat on. “But that’s besides the point. The main thing is that I was all for it. Which means – supportive of you.”  
Harry poured oil into the pan and leant against the counter, the cap of the oil bottle pushing against his cheek. He squinted at Louis, who squinted right back.  
“Wouldn’t a good friend talk me out of dying my hair just to please a boy? Weren’t you supposed to tell me I was good enough as I was and didn’t need to dye my hair to be noticed by someone?”  
“I think you watch too much TV, love. Or teenage youtubers.”  
Harry grinned and jumped the next second, for the oil started to boil and bit him in the shoulder.  
“Ouch!” he hissed, rubbing the spot with his other hand.  
“Need any help?”  
“It’s alright,” Harry said, cracking the first egg in. The pan sizzled and he drew back slightly. “And I suppose you win. Supporting me in dying my hair does count,” he said as he cracked another three and covered the pan with a lid. He turned to face the room and leant against the counter again.  
“Though we are lucky you didn’t.”  
“Imagine the face of Mrs Gingerich.”  
Louis laughed.  
“I don’t think she would have let you in, to be honest. You probably would have failed your math had you done it.”  
“Nah, she loved mum, she would have figured it out for me.”  
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Louis said, leaning back with his hands behind his back and a dreamy grin on his face. “You remember what she said to Maddie when she came to school with that Hello Kitty head thingy?”  
The kettle whistled and Harry turned it off before answering.  
“The one with cat ears and sequins? Her mum was called in to school, wasn’t she?”  
The oil started to shoot loudly against the lid and Harry turned the heat off, leaving it to cook in the residual heat – or at least that’s what Jamie Oliver always said.  
“I think they even bought her a new backpack after that,” Louis said as he approached the kettle. “She used to have everything with Hello Kitty, remember?”  
Harry sighed.  
“Poor Madds. She wasn’t herself for weeks after that.”  
“Well, it’s like taking all the comics away from Liam, I suppose,” Louis threw the teabags into two mugs he found and poured hot water over them.  
“Or guitar from Niall,” Harry said as he took two plates out.  
“That would be painful.”

***

“It looks medieval,” Harry said, looking around the small hall.  
They peeked into the main area they’ve just left, with a few patrons at the tables. The pub did have that certain ambience about it, what with the red walls, wooden furniture, and dimmed lights.  
“It does, doesn’t it?” Louis said to a painting he was looking at in the entrance corridor.  
“It does, yeah,” Harry agreed, stepping level with him.  
“I bet you that’s an old one.”  
Louis traced a white crack on the wall painting of a princess or duchess – Harry couldn’t tell exactly.  
“Would they really leave it here if those were old?”  
Louis pursed his lips, eyeing the walls suspiciously. Harry bit on a smile. Louis shrugged and took a step back.  
“Whatever. It looks really nice regardless,” Louis said and cast a look around. Harry did the same. “Shall we go?” Louis pointed to the exit, eyebrows raised.  
“I’ve got a better idea,” Harry whispered and pulled him by the wrist towards the stairwell.  
“Harry!” Louis hissed as they climbed the steps, glancing back anxiously. “It says ‘private residents only’.”  
“And who would know we aren’t private residents?”  
“I can’t believe you,” Louis said when they stopped at the landing.  
It had some more paintings, a huge chandelier in the centre of the ceiling – it brushed Harry’s shoulder if he walked close enough – and a door of white wood with dark beams. Harry watched Louis take a careful step towards the door and pull it open.  
“Look at that corridor!” Louis said, unable to contain himself. Harry came up behind him and saw a corridor straight from a cartoon, all geometrical from the same dark beams against the white wood walls, dark red doors and pictures between each room. “It looks like it’s from a Doctor Who episode,” Louis said in quiet amazement.  
“Or a horror film,” Harry said and Louis winced. “Sorry,” Harry said, stepping back.  
“It’s fine. You just startled me.”  
Harry opened his mouth but saw a door open.  
“Shit,” he said, snatching Louis by the waist and out of the corridor.  
They shut the doors and almost toppled over, Harry gaining his balance with a hand on the wall. He felt Louis exhale against him in relief. A laugh bubbled up in Harry.  
“Wanker,” Louis said through a laugh of his own as Harry let him go. “Come on, we’ve got to leave. Now,” Louis pushed Harry in the chest towards the stairs. Harry clasped his wrist again and they sped down the steps and to the main door, bypassing the main hall completely.  
When they were outside, Harry leant against the pub wall, its ivy tickling his cheek and neck.  
“What if we were caught?” Louis asked from beside him, standing in an identical posture.  
“Well, if we were in a movie...”  
“In a horror film?”  
“Well, with a romantic subplot, let’s say.”  
“Romantic?” Louis raised his eyebrows, attempting to look haughty, but his cheeks reddened regardless. Harry smiled wider and raised his gaze back to his eyes. Might as well take his chance.  
“Yeah. Then I could have kissed you there, pretended we were a couple.”  
“How on earth would that have helped?”  
“Well, only a heartless creature would break somebody’s kiss.”  
Louis squinted at him.  
“Hmm. How about that time you broke Jo and Sean kissing? Was it our last year? Yeah, right before the Easter break, wasn’t it?”  
“Ain’t my fault they did it during our footie match! If I didn’t break their kiss, Jo would have gotten a ball right to her head.”  
“So jumping on them was the right thing to do?” Louis asked with an amused smile.  
“I didn’t see them, did I? Anyway, who kisses during a footie match?”  
“What? You never wanted to?”  
“No! It’s not safe!”  
“Am I a ballerina or are you talking about safety?”  
“Are you calling me reckless?”  
“Well, who climbed a tree just to see what Parsons' roof looked like?”  
“But Eli said they had a garden there!”  
“Princess, they had a gable roof. It’s impossible to have a garden without a flat surface.”  
“I was a kid, alright?”  
Louis giggled and Harry pouted at him.  
“Hi!” a child’s voice said and Harry looked down to see a small girl with blonde pig-tails.  
“Hello,” he said, smiling at once and uncrossing his arms. “I’m Harry,” he gave her his hand. She just watched him with an open mouth.  
“Emily, come here,” her mother ran up to them, panting slightly. “I’m sorry,” she said to Harry with an apologetic smile. “She has that habit of walking up to strangers.”  
“Oh,” Harry said, looking at Emily again, who was now holding her mother’s hand but still looking at Harry in wonder.  
“It’s not really safe, love,” said Louis from his right and Harry nodded, trying to look serious and adult-like.  
“That’s what I keep telling her. I’m sorry again,” her mother said. “We will be off,” she said, waving at them with a smile. They waved back and Harry watched Emily walk backwards so that she could still stare at him with her wide caramel eyes.  
“I like your hair!” she squeaked and Harry grinned immediately.  
“It’s not as nice as yours, princess!” he said back and she giggled, hiding her laugh behind a small hand.  
“Kids are so cute sometimes, aren’t they?” Louis said as they watched them go.  
“They are.”  
Harry’s phone buzzed with a text and he took it out, eyes still on the little girl, who was now mounting a bicycle with her mum. He waved at her one last time and glanced at the screen.  
Zayn: are you alright? Can you text me back pls, I’m worried?  
“Everything alright?” Louis asked.  
“Yeah. Footie,” he said with a smile which was a bit too enthusiastic. Louis eyed him for a moment before nodding towards the bicycle rack.  
“Oh, wait,” Harry said and Louis stopped and frowned at him.  
“What’s up?”  
“Can we take a picture? I don’t think we’ve taken photos in the last few years.”  
“Alright. A selfie?”  
“Actually,” Harry looked around and spotted two girls their age. “One second,” he said to Louis.  
He came up to the girls and asked them if they would be so kind to take a few pictures of them, making sure to look pretty and smile. It worked.  
Louis shook his head as he saw him and the girls approach. Harry took his place by his side and in front of the ivy of the pub.  
“What posture are we striking?” Louis asked. Harry eyed him up and down and the girls whispered something to each other.  
“You’ve got your sunglasses?”  
Louis put them on, and Harry nodded at him, all seriousness.  
“Perfect,” he said as he slid his own up his nose.  
“Ready?” one of the girls asked.  
“Yep. Mirror me, alright?”  
“You are the photographer here.”  
Harry brought their backs together and crossed his arms, and Louis mirrored him as promised.  
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered through silent giggles as he changed, following Harry, who now impersonated a rockstar, playing on his leg in lieu of a guitar.  
“Piggyback!” Harry said next, bending a little and Louis climbed him obligingly.  
“You’ll tire the girls out.”  
“No, no, it’s fun,” said the girls.  
“You do look rather cute together,” said the red haired one and Louis stared at Harry with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. Harry hugged him by the shoulders and posed for another picture.  
“Together?” Louis asked quietly. “What did you tell them?”  
“That I wanted a picture with my best mate,” Harry said and took the phone from them. “Thanks a lot.”  
“And why do I have a feeling they would be delighted to see us kissing?” Louis asked as he watched the girls retrieving and whispering together, while Harry looked through the pictures.  
“Well,” Harry said without looking up. He focused the camera of his phone on Louis, his finger poised at the little photocamera sign. “That perspective delights me, too,” he said and managed to snap a photo of Louis’ face, both angry and embarrassed.  
Harry cackled so much he leant back with it.  
“Wanker,” Louis said and slapped his arm.  
“You seem to like that word a lot, don’t you?” Harry said as he looked at him again.  
“You seem to bear the title well, is all,” Louis said with a shrug and started walking towards the bikes.  
“I don’t,” Harry ran up to fall into step with him. “Wank, that is.”  
“Likely story.”

***  
Thunder struck again, and Harry looked into the window from his place on the sofa. It was completely dark outside, the wall of rain never ending behind the glass. Louis hugged further into his quilt blanket and murmured:  
“We should have checked the weather before coming.”  
“Would you have changed your mind if you knew it would rain?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.  
Louis dropped his head into Harry’s lap and closed his eyes. Harry held his breath.  
“Of course I would have come here. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while. Sorry we wasted the first few days of it.”  
“It’s-” Harry said, losing his train of thought when another lightning struck. He finished his chocolate and placed the empty mug onto the floor. “Sorry. It’s alright, I still like it. Plus, I just shocked you with, you know, my confession,” he finished lamely, feeling more blood rush to his cheeks.  
He brought his hand to Louis’ shoulder and squeezed it delicately, afraid to overstep a boundary. Louis didn’t seem to mind. He turned to lay on his back and caught Harry’s hand before he could remove it. He rested it on his tummy and covered it with his own.  
“Oh no, now you'll see my nostrils and all my chin acne,” Harry said and made Louis giggle, cheeks and forehead pink from the chocolate.  
“Relax. I’ve seen the worst of your acne, princess. Still here, ain’t I?”  
“Still can’t believe you didn’t have any pimples.”  
“Well, I’m just perfect.”  
Louis shrugged, and Harry rolled his eyes. He jumped when there was another strike of thunder.  
“Jesus,” Harry muttered, leaning his head back and exhaling into the ceiling. “I hate this.”  
“Why? Isn’t it cozy to watch movies when it’s raining?”  
Harry dropped his head and looked first at the TV, with How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days on, Matthew McConaughey shouting “bullshit!” from the screen, and then down at Louis.  
“I guess it is really cozy, yeah,” he said quietly, squeezing Louis’ waist. Louis clapped his hand and smiled. “Not the thunder part though,” Harry added. “Don’t like thunder.”  
Louis sighed and shook his head, but he was smiling. They turned to the screen for a moment and watched the two kiss in the shower. Then, out of nowhere, Louis said:  
“I had a crush on you, you know. At school, I mean.”  
Harry stared at him, glad he wasn’t swallowing at the moment, or he would have surely choked and died. Because Louis did not just casually say that. He didn’t.  
“I’m fairly certain if you don’t drop your eyebrows right now, they’ll disappear and you won’t ever find them again,” Louis said then and poked Harry in the stomach.  
Harry raised the eyebrows even further, not realizing what he was doing.  
“Are you pulling my leg?”  
“I’m serious.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”  
Harry gave his eyebrows a break and dropped them into a frown. Louis looked at his feet and kept his gaze trained there as he said:  
“I think I was too shy. And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And then you started going out with blokes and I thought you wouldn’t be interested.”  
Harry’s heart clenched, and he squeezed Louis’ hand. Louis squeezed back and looked up at him. Harry blinked, disappointment bitter in his stomach.  
“I’m sorry.”  
Louis looked at peace with himself.  
“What for, princess?”  
“I dunno, if I was a bit more sensitive back then, it could have all gone differently.”  
“Differently how? You would have made yourself love me?”  
“I always loved you,” Harry said at once, and his whole face burnt hot. Another thunderstruck, quieter this time, but Harry didn’t flinch. Louis looked sympathetic.  
“Not like this though. Climbing trees with me, or making me skip class is loving a friend, princess, it’s not what I felt like about you.”  
Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t really have words now.  
“I’m sorry.”  
His throat felt constricted, and he looked up at the screen, even though he couldn’t see it. He lost his chance back at school. What if it would never come back?  
“Hey,” Louis said, and Harry felt his warm hand cup his jaw. He looked down but his vision was blurry. “Don’t cry, princess, it’s all water under the bridge now, promise.”  
Louis said it as if he was talking to a wounded puppy. He sat up and pulled Harry to his chest – Harry had to bend down to hide his face in Louis’ hoodie. He sniffled.  
“I’m so sorry, Lou.”  
“Don’t be, love. I never thought that would make you cry. Hey,” Louis said, stroking his back as Harry tried not to sob. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and willed the tears to go away. His nose felt stuffed and hot, the fabric of Louis’ hoodie rough against his raw cheek. “I even tried telling you once,” Louis said then, and Harry heard a smile. He sat up and looked at him. Louis’ smile morphed into a concerned frown. “Hey,” he said, swiping his thumbs across Harry’s cheeks. “Princess, don’t cry, please. I didn’t want you to cry when I said it, I promise.”  
“Sorry,” Harry said, wiping his face on his own sleeve this time. His tears weren’t coming anymore, and he managed a smile.  
“That’s better.”  
“Sorry, I just...” Harry took a deep breath in through his mouth and let it out. “Romantic feelings are a lot for me, I suppose.”  
“Join the club. You sure you alright now?”  
“Yeah, yeah, completely fine,” Harry said, taking another deep breath.  
“Good,” Louis said. He dropped his head back into Harry’s lap. Harry chuckled, his eyes still a bit raw from crying.  
“So when did you tell me, then?”  
“Oh, I tried to tell you our last school year, at the start of it. We had a school fair, remember?”  
“Yeah?” Harry said, uncertainly, trying to call up some images in his mind. “Was it when it was, like, a super hot day in the middle of October? And you wore your Ramones tee?”  
“Impressive,” Louis said, jutting his bottom lip out. Harry snorted. “Yeah, that time. I was working up the courage all day. I remember sitting in my room thinking up strategies of how to get you on your own and all that,” Louis said, smiling to no one in particular.  
“Did you manage it, then? To get me on my own?”  
“Well,” Louis said, focusing his gaze back on Harry. “You disappeared into the crowd the second we arrived, and I was left to Sam, as always.”  
“Oi! Not always. I did spend time with you on fairs and school events.”  
“Yeah, yeah, ‘till the first member of your gang showed up and whisked you away, that is.”  
Harry frowned and opened his mouth, but closed it for the second time that day.  
“See,” Louis said, but he was smiling. Harry looked guilty.  
“Sorry,” he muttered and Louis giggled.  
“Harry, you don’t have to be sorry for being a popular kid at school.”  
“Still, it was shitty of me to leave you every time. I’m sorry.”  
“I got used to it. Anyway, you spotted me towards the end of the day, it was dark by then, I was standing alone – Sam had been picked up. I think I was waiting for you, actually, yeah...” Louis trailed off, but then caught on. “Yeah, you came up, and were like, ‘are you alright?’ You said I looked funny, I think.”  
“And you say I have an impressive memory.”  
“Well, I was about to brick myself there, so it etched in me brain quite well. Anyway, I failed. Like, I think I started saying it, but then Maddie jumped onto your back and shouted something, and I just shrugged it off.”  
“Maddie!” Harry said, voice full of regret, and it was Louis’ turn to laugh.  
“Don’t blame the girl, she was just having fun.”  
“Yeah, and she spoiled the big moment!”  
“And what would have happened, then? You would have declared your love for me, and we would live happily ever after?”  
Harry crossed his arms, looking petulant.  
“Maybe I should be thankful to Maddie for saving my face. And our friendship.”  
“But I told you that I- what I told you already, and we are still friends, aren’t we?”  
“Yeah, but we are older now. Wiser and all that.”  
“I don’t think I’m any wiser, to be honest.”  
Louis shrugged, tapping his tummy with his fingers.  
“Anyway, that’s my grand story of declaring my feelings to you.”  
“Thanks for sharing.”  
“Your nostrils do look disgusting, by the way.”  
“Piss off,” Harry said, shoving him gently. Louis giggled and next thing Harry knew he was being tickled. “Oi!” he squealed and tried to push the incessant fingers away from his hips.  
They fell into a tickling match, both laughing loudly. They even knocked off Louis’ cup from the table, but didn’t stop. Relief surged through Harry while they mock-fought, and the tension of the last few days finally left him.  
They both lay back on the floor, panting.  
“You are writing songs, right?” Louis asked when their breath evened out again.  
“Yes.”  
“Can I hear some? Sing me your favourite one.”  
“Alright,” Harry said, blushing. He coughed. “There is one, Act My Age, it’s Niall’s favourite. He promised to help me with the tune for it.”  
Harry sat up, coughed again and broke into the song.

***

“What the hell is up with all the insects here?” Harry shouted through the wind, as a fourth bumblebee hit his forehead.  
“Robins are birds, Harry,” Louis said as he sped past him on his bicycle.  
“But them bees keep hitting me all the way from the cottage.”  
“As my mum always says, you must be sweet if they come at you.”  
Harry stared at him but was forced to look ahead by a series of bumps on their path.  
“Blo-o--o-dy bu-u-u-mps!” he said, bopping on the bicycle seat. Louis giggled. “What’s so funny?”  
“You are funny,” Louis said over his shoulder and sped forward.  
“I’ll show you funny.”  
Harry leant forward and pedaled faster, so that he soon caught up to Louis and outran him.  
“Careful with the puddles!” Louis shouted from behind but it was too late. Harry drove right over a particularly deep one and now his trainers were all soaked in muddy water. He stopped and looked down.  
“Shit.”  
“Oh dear,” Louis said, stopping by his side. Harry looked up and smiled despite the disaster that were his trainers now.  
“I think you are the only person I know who uses ‘Oh dear’. And that’s including both of my grannies.”  
Louis crossed his arms and pursed his lips, which only prompted Harry to laugh more.  
“But it is something deserving of an ‘Oh dear’, it’s true,” he said and sighed. Louis’ expression morphed into concern.  
“Do you want to go back to the cottage?”  
“Well, I don’t have anything to change into. And it’s not that bad, they are just dirty now.”  
Louis bit his lip as he looked at the shoes. Harry wiggled his feet, and he looked up.  
“Should we drive on? The lake is just over there,” he pointed to his right.  
“Alright. If you are sure your feet aren’t wet?”  
“As dry as ever.”  
They drove the rest of the way to the lake. The coast looked a bit rough after yesterday’s thunderstorm. But it looked more authentic that way, for some reason Harry could not explain.  
“Here,” Louis said as he rummaged through his backpack.  
He pulled out a blanket they borrowed from the cottage and spread it out over a patch of grass near the coast. Harry plopped down on it and lay back, spreading his limbs. He yawned and heard Louis’ chuckle from above.  
“Are you still sleepy?”  
“Well, it is only 6 in the morning, isn’t it?”  
“I suppose.”  
Harry felt Louis sit down by his side, right near the crook of his arm and torso. He turned his head on the blanket and watched him unzip Harry’s own backpack now.  
“And plus I couldn’t fall asleep because of the thunder.”  
Louis placed a container with buns they got in town yesterday beside Harry’s head, and Harry went cross-eyed for a second. Louis snorted.  
“Little baby who is afraid of thunderstorms.”  
“But it was going for half a night, even after we went to sleep.”  
“Then I don’t ever want to hear you mock me for my fear of spiders,” Louis pointed a finger at him.  
“Deal.”  
Harry sat up and poured their tea from Louis’ thermos. Louis accepted his cup and they both spent a few quiet moments drinking their tea and watching the lake and the sky. There was a little forest on the opposite coast, and now and again a few birds would leave it, some just circling above the trees, others making a tour around the waters.  
“It’s so peaceful here,” Louis said as they watched a goshawk glide just above the waters, possibly looking for mallards.  
Harry took a sip of his tea and jumped, splashing the hot liquid over his hand and hoodie, when he felt a sharp bump to his temple. He turned his head, frowning, and saw another bee flying away.  
“Bloody insects,” he growled. Louis hid his laugh in his cup. “I’m the sweetest person around here, ain’t I?”  
“At least that’s what my mum would say.”  
“Does it have to do with bees or her love for me?”  
Louis shook his head with a smile, turning back to the lake. The goshawk disappeared now, and both the sky and the waters were completely still.  
“She is actually the only one who knows I liked you. Well, and you now.”  
Just like yesterday, Harry blinked at him for a few moments, cup poised against his lips.  
“Jo knew?”  
Louis nodded without looking at him.  
“Oh god,” Harry raised his face to the sky, eyebrows drawing together sadly. “Now she will think badly of me. Like I’m infantile.”  
“Harry!” Louis dropped his cup and looked over at him. “You are basically her second son, she’ll never think ill of you. And, anyway, why would she think that of you?”  
“Maybe because I wasn’t paying you due respect whilst you wanted me to?” Harry looked at him, head still leant back.  
“When I said mum knew about my feelings I didn’t mean I was complaining to her about you,” Louis said, looking Harry in the eye. Or whatever part of Harry’s eye he could see, considering the latter’s posture. “And I don’t think she ever felt you had to like me that way. I just needed to share with somebody so that I could gain perspective, is all.”  
Harry dropped his head forward and sighed.  
“Didn’t you tell anyone?” Louis asked then.  
“Yeah, I met a bloke in that pub. His name is Harold, actually.”  
“Oh.”  
Harry raised his head and brought his hand up to tap at his chin.  
“I first wanted to take him home, really,” he ran his hand through his hair. “God, this is embarrassing.”  
“You don’t have to tell me if you are uncomfortable.”  
“No, no, I want to. No more secrets, remember?”  
Louis smiled and nodded for him to go on.  
“Well, he just talked to me, and I drank for the first time in a while, you know,” Harry reached out and plucked a blade of grass. “So it just poured out of me, I suppose.”  
“Did he help you with the feelings?”  
“I think so. Like, talking about it made it easier. But I think I could have talked to Niall to the same effect.”  
“But you don’t regret telling Harold?”  
Harry took a moment as he watched the water rumble under the wind. Then, he shook his head.  
“No. He is a good bloke. We met a couple times afterwards, just to talk. He actually has a girlfriend now.”  
“So you trust him?”  
“I know it doesn’t sound right,” Harry glanced at Louis, who looked sceptical. “It doesn’t sound right because it makes it seem like I have no boundaries. But I think it was right for me at the time.”  
“How so?”  
“Well, I would be too embarrassed to tell Niall, and for some reason I didn’t think of talking to mum or Gems about it. And sometimes you can just feel that someone has a good personality, you know?”  
Harry saw Louis shrug out of the corner of his eye.  
“Are you angry because I told a stranger about you?”  
That made Louis contemplate him for a moment. Harry made himself sit still under the stare. Louis shook his head, and Harry relaxed.  
“I trust you, princess,” he said and tacked on a smile. “You’ve got good judgement of people.”  
“Do I? I did miss your feelings for me, didn’t I?”  
“Well, it may just be that I am good at concealing those.”  
Harry smiled at that.  
“Lou?” he looked around, and Louis met his eye. “Do you think we could make this work?”  
Louis bit his cheek and dropped his gaze. When he didn’t answer, Harry tried again:  
“Petal?”  
“We will see, princess. But I think it’s good we are talking it through, yeah?”  
He gave a tentative smile, and Harry returned it.  
“Here,” Louis opened the container. “Take a pasty.” 

***

“I want to live here,” Harry said, bent in half and smelling the pink flowers. He didn’t know their name, but they smelled wonderful. Louis chuckled behind him; Harry straightened up and looked over his shoulder. “What?”  
“Live in a garden?”  
“Well, maybe in one of those buildings.”  
Harry pointed to a rustic-looking brown house. Louis shrugged in acquiescence. Harry sighed.  
“It’s just so beautiful in here.”  
Louis stepped back to let two old ladies with purple hair pass, smiling against the sun. He brought a hand up, shielding his eyes, and looked around with a smile on his face.  
“It is,” he answered, “beautiful. No other word for it, actually.”  
Harry saw a little girl doing pirouettes behind Louis and had a sudden idea.  
“Petal?” he came up and offered a hand. Louis frowned at it, still smiling. “Would you dance with me?”  
Louis’ eyebrows shot up.  
“Here? In the gardens? At, what?” he glanced at his watch. “At barely ten in the morning?”  
“Precisely,” Harry said with a grin, and Louis blinked and then shook his head, looking bewildered.  
“But I can’t dance. I don’t know how to, remember?”  
“I’ll show you,” Harry’s hand was still up. He nudged it forward a little and Louis eyed it sceptically.  
“Excuse me,” said someone on the left and they both stepped back to allow people to pass. Harry giggled at Louis when they were alone again.  
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”  
Louis sighed and pulled Harry over to the patch of grass and away from the path they were standing on.  
“Oof,” Harry let out involuntarily, stumbling into him. “Sorry,” he added.  
“And you say you are going to teach me dancing?”  
“You’ll be surprised.”  
Harry took Louis’ hand and placed his other one between his shoulder blades.  
“Aren’t you supposed to hold the waist?” Louis asked, not looking at Harry in favour of examining his shoulder.  
“Well, that’s definitely an option,” Harry said, his smile never wavering. “But, generally, to be polite, you don’t do it on the first dance.”  
“Is that some sort of unspoken rule?” Louis said and met his eye, looking away almost at once.  
Harry pursed his lips and looked up.  
“It probably isn’t. But it makes me feel polite and well-encultured.”  
“Well-encultured?” Louis glanced up again.  
Harry wiggled his brows, and Louis shook his head.  
“Ready?”  
“Lead the way.”  
“I think we have a spectator,” Harry said, spotting the girl from before watching them with big eyes. Harry waved at her while Louis looked alarmed. “Relax,” Harry said quietly to him and Louis’ cheeks reddened slightly. “Now, there’ll be four steps. Two slow ones, two quick ones. Easy?”  
“I hope so,” Louis said, watching their feet.  
“Alright. I start, you follow,” Harry waited for a nod before making the first step. “Slo-o-w, slo-o-w, quick, quick,” Harry guided Louis in slightly crooked diagonals. “Slo-o-w, slo-o-w, quick, quick. Easy, right?”  
“Not too difficult, yeah,” Louis smiled timidly up at him. His cheeks were still red and it made Harry’s smile softer. Louis held his gaze this time, even though Harry saw he was focused on taking the right steps, as Harry kept guiding their movements.  
“Slo-o-w, slo-o-w, quick, quick,” Harry said quietly and glanced at Louis’ lips. Louis’ gaze dropped to Harry’s mouth and when they both looked up, Harry saw more colour on his face, feeling his own ears burn. “Slo-o-w, slo-o-w,” he said, whispered almost. His breath was shaky – he felt as if a bird was fluttering inside him, somewhere around his solar plexus. “Quick, quick.”  
They kept their eyes locked on each other, and Harry felt hot from moving and cold from what was about to happen. His chest felt constricted a little, he couldn’t get much air in.  
“Princess,” Louis said quietly, glancing at his lips again.  
“Petal?”  
Louis looked him in the eye, and his gaze was hard and determined, even though his cheeks were blushing. Harry stopped them and felt Louis breathe against his front, their stomachs touching on the inhale.  
“Can I?” Harry asked quietly, leaning forward slightly. Louis nodded timidly.  
Harry’s phone buzzed with a text.  
Louis stepped back immediately and Harry let out a sharp exhale.  
“Shit,” he said under his breath.  
He looked at the screen and wanted to smash the bloody thing when he saw Zayn’s name.  
“Go fuck yourself,” he said to the phone and locked it as agressively as one could do it.  
He looked up and saw Louis with a hand on his forehead, breathing deeply with closed eyes. Harry took a step closer and touched his elbow gently. Louis opened his eyes and Harry gave him a small smile. He reached into his backpack.  
“Water?” he said, handing the bottle.  
“Thanks.”  
Harry watched him take a gulp and took the bottle back.  
“Thanks,” Louis said again, and Harry just nodded.  
“Want to go that way?”  
Harry pointed to his right, and Louis followed him.  
“Kind of like our first trip, isn’t it?” Louis asked, both hands behind his back, and looking at the ground. Harry dropped his gaze, too. His stomach still felt funny, though now he could breathe easier.  
“In what sense?”  
“Walking a small town and all that,” Louis said.  
“Awkward conversations,” Harry said quietly, and Louis looked up at him, biting his cheek.  
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I think it’s me.”  
“We’ll figure it out,” Harry nudged his shoulder gently.  
“I hope so.”  
“I know so.”  
Louis gave him another stare, still biting his cheek, whilst Harry just grinned through it. His throat felt a little constricted, but he didn’t let it on.  
They walked out of the garden, and Harry stopped. Louis glanced at his watch.  
“It’s almost ten.”  
“Alright. Erm,” Harry scratched his head, turning around himself and surveying the buildings. “Oh, there is a library.”  
“Is it Harry Styles inviting me to read books?” Louis looked at him with his hand up to shield from the sun.  
“You better not waste that moment. Catch up!” he said and took off. When he heard Louis run after him, he said loudly: “ ‘Wanker’, I know!”  
“You read my mind, princess,” Louis panted from behind.  
Harry slowed down to a stop and heard Louis do the same. He turned around, breathing deeply, and saw Louis lean against the building as he let the air out in quick breaths.  
“Look at me taking care of your health,” Harry said.  
“I think-” Louis panted, “sudden cardio-” pant, “like that- can be actually dan-gerous.”  
“No, no, any sport is good for you.”  
Louis raised his finger but Harry caught his wrist and pulled him along.  
“Come on, or all the good books will be taken.”  
“Harry, it’s a library. You can’t run out of books in a library.”  
“Sure you can. They are limited, aren’t they.”  
They started climbing the stairs now. Harry took two steps at a time, Louis was running to catch up with him, his wrist bopping in Harry’s gentle grip.  
“But nobody reads today. At least not the paperbacks.”  
“In my time you could not get a person out of a library,” said someone from behind once they’ve reached the landing. They both turned and saw an old portly man in a short-sleeved shirt and with grey hair. “And,” the man said, as he started to climb the stairs, using the rail for support, “that’s where we often met girls, if you know what I mean,” he actually winked at that and Harry grinned.  
“See,” he said to Louis, pointing both of their hands at the man. “It’s romantic.”  
Louis’ eyes widened and his cheeks grew red.  
“But we aren’t on a date, are we?” he asked quietly, glancing at the man as he reached them. Louis smiled at him.  
“Gentlemen,” the man nodded as he passed. “And actually,” he said, stopping a few steps ahead of them. “Freddie, a good friend of mine, met his boyfriend in this very library. So, you never know.”  
Louis opened his mouth and blinked a few times. Harry giggled at him.  
“Hope you have a good time here,” the man said as he left them for good.  
“We will,” Harry said after him and saw a wave. “Thanks for the advice!”  
“Yeah,” Louis said. “Yeah, thanks.”  
“You alright?” Harry asked, tugging at his arm. Louis frowned at him.  
“Yes?”  
“Are you asking?”  
“Yes?”  
“Lou.”  
Louis shook his head.  
“Sorry. Let’s go,” he said, stepping forward and pulling Harry along this time.  
They entered the library with rows of books along each wall. Whereas the library at their university was organized for studying, with shelves separating the many tables, this one had books along each wall, with tall windows and carpet on the floors. It felt like-  
“It feels like I’m at my grannie’s,” Louis said as Harry let go of his wrist at last.  
“They even have a carpet,” Harry said.  
There were a few tables in the middle of the room, one occupied by a group of middle aged ladies and the man they met before. They were laughing at something quietly – it made Harry smile. He glimpsed another room with just shelves upon shelves of books.  
“There,” he whispered, tapping Louis on the shoulder from where he was perusing titles on the closest shelf.  
“Mmm?”  
“There is a whole other room with books,” Harry said, nodding to the opened door. “Should we have a look there?”  
“Sure.”  
Harry vastly underestimated the size of the room from his previous spot. When they entered, it turned out to be a room bigger than the fist one, with high ceilings and at least ten rows of shelves. No carpet this time though.  
“Pretty impressive for a small town, isn’t it?”  
Harry started walking slowly along the first raw, his fingers touching every book.  
“Well, as that man said, it used to be popular,” Louis said, his voice muffled – he was looking through the books in the next row.  
“I quite like it here,” Harry took out a book and glimpsed Louis’ back through the gap. “Hello,” he said, stuffing his face into it. Louis turned and looked around with a frown. “Hello,” Harry said again and Louis jumped when he spotted him. Harry retrieved his head, giggling. Louis huffed but didn’t say anything.  
“And where is my favourite name?”  
Louis raised his eyebrows, looking alarmed.  
“I can’t say this word in a library.”  
“Or what? The spirit of Jane Austen will hunt you?” Harry said as he resumed his walk. “Or maybe not her – Gemms told me she was quite witty in her books. Is that right?”  
“Have you really never read anything by her?”  
“You make it sound like I’m an uncultured swine.”  
Louis snorted.  
“I didn’t mean to offend you. She is just so popular, I thought you must have at some point. Didn’t we read her at school?”  
“Well, maybe you did – I for sure didn’t,” Harry stopped and took a small red book off the shelf.  
“Have you seen the movie?”  
“Huh?” Harry looked up from The Contents and stared at the shelf as if it had just spoken with Louis’ voice.  
“The one with Keira Knightly?”  
“Erm, I don’t think so.”  
“Harry!” Louis said and his face appeared in a gap a bit to the left from where Harry was actually standing. Harry came up to him.  
“What?”  
“This is, like, the mother of all romantic comedies. We are watching it tonight,” he said in a decisive tone, and Harry shrugged.  
“If you say so.”  
“I say so,” Louis said, nodding seriously.  
Harry looked back at the opened book he was holding, Pride and Prejudice.  
“Did you know she died when she was barely over forty? That’s so sad,” he said.  
“I don’t remember her writing about it in a book.”  
“Very funny,” Harry looked up. “There is an afterword here,” he said, bringing the book up to eye level. “And she never married.”  
“There was a movie about her, with James McAvoy as her love interest.”  
“Why does it sound like Atonement?”  
Louis chuckled.  
“That one did not have Keira Knightly in it. Jane Austen was Anne Hathaway.”  
“Did they marry in the movie?”  
“I don’t think so? I don’t remember, actually, haven’t seen it for ages.”  
Harry sighed.  
“That’s so sad – she wrote all those romances but never married herself. She did write romance, right?”  
“Yep, but she added social satire to it. Anyway, you’ll see it in the movie,” Louis pointed a finger at him. “And for the marriage, she didn’t have to be married to love someone, right?”  
“But they couldn’t date like we date today. Like, even in Downton Abbey they didn’t really date much, just straight off marrying.”  
“How come you watched Downton Abbey but not Pride and Prejudice?”  
Harry sighed again.  
“That’s a stupid story. Niall and I binged it once because someone told him it had an actor looking just like him, and he was also Irish – is Irish. Allen Leech, was his name?”  
“Oh, he does look like Niall,” Louis said, looking up thoughtfully. “God, he looks a lot like Niall. He even sounds like Niall. How did I not notice that before?”  
“Well, you don’t live with that Irish face like I do.”  
“Did Niall ever use that? That they look alike? Like, on stage or something?”  
“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal, but I did dare him to come up to a girl and say he was the actor once.”  
“Really? What happened?”  
“He got slapped in the face,” Harry said.  
“Oh no.”  
“Oh yes. I think it was the acne that gave him away.”  
“Oh no,” Louis said again, and they both burst into giggles.  
***  
“There we go,” Louis said from his crouched position in front of the shelf. “See, they even have it on DVD – a sure proof it’s a must see.”  
He showed Harry the disc he was talking about.  
“I think I have DVDs of all Disney films that ever existed, and we don’t even have a DVD-player anymore. Does it mean everyone must watch them?”  
Louis squinted at him, still crouching.  
“Can’t you for once just admit that I am right?”  
Harry shrugged, hugging a huge bowl of pop-corn to his chest. He scratched his chin and shifted his weight from right to left.  
“Well, come to think of it, I do believe everyone should watch the Disney movies.”  
Louis groaned in exasperation and plopped down on his bum. That didn’t seem enough to express his sorrow, and Harry observed with an amused smile as he lay all the way on the floor and covered his face with the disc.  
Harry took a few steps forward, dropped to his knees beside him and placed the pop-corn on Louis’ stomach. That prompted the latter to remove the disc and frown first at his tummy and then at Harry. Harry raised his eyebrows amiably.  
“Hi.”  
“Hi yourself,” he raised the bowl and sat up, becoming level with Harry’s face.  
Harry grinned.  
“Hey Lou?”  
“Princess?”  
“Do you want to learn French?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“French. The language.”  
“What, now?”  
“Why not?”  
“And what about the movie?”  
“It’s barely four, we’ve got plenty of time.”  
Louis shook his head, still looking bewildered.  
“Alright. But French was my worst subject at school, just so you know.”  
“Worst? If you had a “B” instead of an “A” doesn’t mean you were hopeless.”  
“Ever so supportive.”  
“Exactly,” Harry said and flicked him on the nose. Louis raised his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth twitching up.  
“May I ask why the sudden urge to learn it?”  
Harry took the bowl and got up, miraculously managing to not spill any food on the floor.  
“I dunno,” he said as he gave Louis his hand to help him up. “It’s the language of love and all that. Sounds romantic.”  
“And you want to be romantic with me?”  
Louis sounded amused, but after glancing at him Harry noticed a careful shade to his expression. Harry felt his stomach swoosh, but he didn’t let it on when he simply said:  
“Certainly.”  
There was a pause in which they stood completely still, Harry suddenly aware of Louis’ hand still very much in his, warm and twitching slightly. Louis swallowed, the sound loud, and Harry dropped his gaze to his Adam’s apple. Louis coughed into his fist and retrieved his hand from Harry’s.  
“Alright,” he said.  
“Alright?” Harry said through a smile.  
“Alright. But we may as well start on some food while we are at it because I’m sure we’ll be hungry by the end of it.”  
“Food,” Harry said as he deposited the bowl into Louis’ hands and left for the fridge. “Food, food, food,” he muttered as he examined the fridge. “Food!” he said, lightening up when he spotted ham and cheese. He made a quick inspection of the pantry and turned to Louis with a triumphant smile.  
“We are making pizza!”  
“Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to learn Italian, then?”  
“No,” Harry said, pointing a finger at him. “We are learning French while we are making pizza.”  
“More like, you are making pizza,” Louis said as he took his now usual place at the table.  
“I don’t think you can set fire to the kitchen while grating cheese,” Harry said, snatching the grater from the shelf. He turned to Louis with a hopeful smile.  
Louis sighed and took the proffered grater.  
“Wanker.”  
Harry grinned wider and opened the fridge again.  
“I missed it.”  
“What, the wanker thing?” Louis said, now accepting the cheese from Harry.  
“I do grow strangely attached to your pet names, you know.”  
Harry said as he took out another bowl and flour from the bottom shelf, feeling Louis’ eyes on him.  
“Well, I’ll give you “princess”, but “wanker” is in no way a pet name.”  
“Depends on the tone.”  
“Don’t ruin the word for me, will you?” Louis said, looking up from his grating.  
“What is it in French, by the way?”  
Louis paused in cheese grating and Harry felt him look up again. Harry, for his part, was peacefully making the dough, even though his heart was beating faster than usual.  
“Lou?” he asked his bowl.  
“Do you really want to start learning a language with the swear words?”  
“It’s not like we don’t know any French.”  
Harry looked up and saw Louis roll his eyes. Harry grinned, now involving his hands to bring the dough together. Louis took out his phone and tapped in a word.  
“Branleur,” said an automated voice.  
“Vous êtes branleur?” Harry said.  
“‘Vous’ is for the plural ‘you’ or for the polite form. ‘Tu’ is the casual ‘you’, remember?”  
“Tu…”  
Harry sneezed into his shoulder.  
“Bless you.”  
“Thanks. Bloody flour,” he mumbled and heard Louis chuckle. Harry smiled into his shoulder in pretence of scratching his cheek with it. “So, tu es braneur?”  
“Branleur.”  
“Tu es branleur.”  
“Yep,” Louis said, resuming his grating.  
Harry got his dough onto the table and eyed it suspiciously. He pointed a finger at it and said:  
“Tu es branleur.”  
He looked up when he heard Louis cackle.  
“You look ridiculous.”  
“I’m learning French!” Harry said, flailing his arms, but his lips were betraying him – they wanted to smile.  
“You’ve got flour in your hair. And on your shirt. And on your face,” Louis said, pointing at each with his cheese.  
Harry wiped his nose with his forearm.  
“Do I look domestic, then?”  
Louis chuckled again.  
“Fairly domestic, yeah,” he said quietly. Harry wasn’t even sure it was meant for him to hear. Then, Louis coughed and took up his phone again. “How about I put on some French music? They say that’s the best way to learn.”  
“And who are ‘they’, exactly?”  
“Piss off,” Louis said, already typing something in. “And before you ask,” he said, raising a finger which had cheese on it. “I’m not looking up what ‘piss off’ is in French.”  
“Wasn’t going to.”


	9. Chapter 9

Harry woke up from a strain in his neck and a bursting bladder. He raised his head, groaned softly from the pain, and felt Louis shift right next to him. Harry blinked his eyes open and looked to his right, where Louis was sleeping against his right arm. They were seated on the sofa, Louis was drawn up into a ball, curling against Harry’s side with his back to him. There was their unfinished puzzle on the table and two empty mugs. Harry smiled, even though he couldn’t feel his right arm because of the pressure.  
“Lou,” he said softly, bringing his left hand to comb through Louis’ hair. “Petal,” Louis stirred a little, “wake up.”  
“Time’sit?”  
“I dunno, but I really need a wee.”  
Louis sighed deeply, his back expanding with it, and leant back for Harry to retrieve his arm; when Harry stood up, Louis planted right back.  
“Now it ain't comfy,” he murmured.  
“I’ll be right back.”

Harry came back five minutes later.  
“I come with tea and peace,” he said, placing two hot cups on the coffee table. Louis sniffed the air before opening his eyes. He blinked a few times, then rubbed his eyes with his hands.  
“Thanks.”  
“No problem. It’s almost eleven, by the way.”  
“Oh, shit,” Louis said, blowing on his tea. “Better get going, we’ve got to pack.”  
Harry smiled, feeling at peace with himself.  
“What?” Louis asked, noticing his stare. Harry shrugged, but didn’t hide his smile.  
“It‘s a good day.”  
Louis raised his eyebrows but didn’t answer.  
They finished the tea and packed their bags after that. Harry kept sneaking glances at Louis, and caught him smiling, cheeks red, a few times. Harry kept looking at him on the journey back, too. It was exhausting, that was true, but Harry could bear it if he got a chance to watch Louis blink into the window of the taxi groggily, like he still didn’t know where they were, having slept half the way from Cornwall to Manchester. They drove up to Harry’s place to leave their bags and go for dinner somewhere nice – another testament to their delicate balance of a friendship at the moment.  
“You sure you are alright? If you want to sleep, you can take my bed, I won’t mind,” Harry said, as they approached his building.  
“I’m fine. Just hungry.”  
Their door was unlocked when Harry tried it, so he held it open for Louis.  
“Be my guest.”  
“Such a gentleman.”  
They entered the hall and heard voices in the kitchen.  
“Is Niall having guests?”  
Harry frowned and looked at the kitchen, but could glimpse only Niall pinching the bridge of his nose, standing by the fridge right opposite the open door.  
“Nialler?” Harry tried, momentarily forgetting they technically still hadn’t made up yet.  
“Thank goodness, you are here,” Niall said, stepping into the corridor but stopped dead when he saw Louis. He looked at Harry, then back at Louis, then glanced at the kitchen.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I’m sorry, H,” Niall only said, already stepping aside to let Zayn pass.  
Someone must have hit Harry in his knees, because they felt so weak he could fall.  
“Hi! Zayn, is it?” Louis said, and Harry saw him step up, offering his hand.  
“Yeah, hi,” Zayn said, shaking the hand. “Louis?”  
“Yep,” Louis said, smiling politely, but Zayn already turned to Harry.  
“Why didn’t you reply? I was worried.”  
“I went away for a trip. With Louis,” Harry said quietly, feeling Louis’ confused gaze at him. Niall was biting his thumb by the kitchen door, looking sorry. Harry looked at the floor.  
“Were you in a cave or something? Couldn’t you just text me back?”  
“Hey, don’t be rude,” Louis said, and Harry glanced up, his stomach in tight knots. Zayn raised his eyebrows, looking incredulous.  
“Rude? I’m rude? What about Harry disappearing off the face of the earth without a word?”  
“Why do you care so much, anyway?” Louis said, crossing his arms and frowning. Harry saw Niall hold his breath, and felt that he himself couldn’t breathe either. That was it, he thought.  
“Well, last time I checked Harry and I were together, and then he fucks off and never cares to text me back.”  
Louis blinked at Harry, his arms falling to the side.  
“Together? You two are dating?”  
They both looked at Harry, who felt terrified and ashamed.  
“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes on Louis.  
Louis opened his mouth but then closed it without a sound, and Harry saw a wall fall over his face. That was it, he thought. Whatever they built during the trip was ended. Gone.  
He watched Louis cross the hallway, pick up his bag and leave, the door making a loud sound in the silence of the flat. Harry stared at it, his heart aching more than it ever had in his life.  
“I think you need to leave, mate,” Harry heard Niall say to Zayn, and soon felt a rough shove in his back as Zayn passed him without another word and left the flat, too.  
Harry blinked and felt hot tears run down his cheeks. He was taking shallow breaths, his throat swallowing and constricting his breathing. Niall came up from behind and clapped him on the shoulder. A sob escaped Harry.  
“Shh,” Niall said, coming around and hugging Harry closer, just like he did two weeks ago in the exact same spot. “Let it out, H. Let it out,” Niall said quietly, stroking Harry’s back. Harry let out another sob and broke down completely, shaking and sniffing against Niall’s shoulder.  
Afterwards, Niall led Harry into his room, brought him tea and left his door ajar. Harry thanked him and sipped his tea while staring at the wall, trying to not think of anything. Thoughts hurt.

***  
He woke up feeling someone’s eyes on him. His heart started beating faster and he opened his eyes and sat upright, his heart full of hope.  
“Oh,” he let out involuntarily, seeing Niall instead of Louis. Harry brought his hand to his forehead. “Everything alright?”  
“I should be asking you that,” Niall said, putting his tea on the floor.  
“What? Why?”  
Harry frowned and squinted against the bright sunlight.  
“It’s two in the afternoon, that’s why.”  
Harry’s jaw dropped.  
“Exactly,” Niall said. “Now,” he slapped his legs with his hands. “Do you want tea? Breakfast? And don’t forget guitar practice in the afternoon.”  
Harry closed his eyes and fell back into bed. He turned away and pulled the blanket over his head.  
“I don’t want anything, Niall. I messed up. I want to wallow in my rue.”  
Next second the blanket was torn off him and light filled Harry’s vision again. He crossed his arms and brought his knees closer to his chest, still not turning to face Niall. That didn’t help.  
Niall shoved his face right into his space not a second later, and Harry frowned deeper, even though the corners of his mouth were twitching.  
“Get up, sunshine,” Niall said and smacked his lips on Harry’s forehead, leaving a wet spot. Harry scrunched his face, but before he could so much as glare at Niall, the man was out the door, leaving it open. “I’m going to start the pancakes, and I want to see you there in ten minutes, is that clear?”  
“Yes, sir,” Harry said and saluted the empty room. He sighed, turning onto his back. “And thank you.”  
“No problem.”  
Harry looked up at the ceiling, and regret started tugging at his limbs once again. He wouldn’t let it, not for now. He got up, grabbed his clothes and went straight to the shower.

The next few days passed in much the same manner. Niall woke Harry up, they had breakfast, did some footie if Niall could arse Harry into it, and then went back home to practice guitar and finish their evenings with a home cooked meal and a movie. Harry kept glancing at his phone but only rarely dared to unlock it.  
He hadn’t touched it except to leave unanswered calls and texts to Louis or to phone Gemma once and cry his heart out on the fifth day of his misery. She listened patiently and comforted him as much as she could with her words, while promising not to tell mum or Lottie. Harry sighed when she asked if he tried talking to Louis yet. Niall raised his head from where he was lying half in Harry’s lap and frowned up at him when he noticed his change of mood.  
“I don’t think he would answer me even.”  
“Did you try calling?”  
“I did, he wouldn’t pick up,” Harry’s voice went higher and his throat felt constricted at once. He took in a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling so as not to cry. Niall squeezed his knee comfortingly while Gemma hummed in concentration.  
“Keep it calm, H, we will figure something out. Would you like me to call him? We do talk sometimes. Or I can ask Lottie if she knows something?”  
Harry dropped his head and stared long and hard at the wall opposite. The dark room was now and then illuminated by the light from the passing cars, and Harry watched the yellow lights as thoughts rushed through his head. Would he like to know how Louis was doing? Certainly. Would it hurt if Louis was leading a normal life? What if he got back together with Eleanor? That would hurt like a bitch.  
“H? Are you there?”  
“Yeah, sorry,” Harry said, shaking his head. “One second,” he looked at Niall who now sat up and looked at him uncharacteristically seriously.  
“What is it?”  
“Do you think it’s a good idea if Gemms tried to find out what Lou is up to?”  
“What if Louis finds out? I wouldn’t like to learn that my girlfriend was sneaking behind my back.”  
“It wouldn’t be sneaking though,” said Gemma’s voice and Harry put her on speaker, dropping the phone into his lap. “We don’t want gossip about him, we want to know how he’s doing. Because if he isn’t his best, maybe it would be good for Harry to go make it up.”  
“But why on earth wouldn’t Lottie tell her brother that someone was asking about him?”  
Harry opened his mouth but nearly choked on his own lungs when the icon changed and he saw Liam calling.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered and Niall snatched the phone, Harry watching him with wild eyes.  
“What’s wrong?” asked Gemma.  
“Liam is calling, it’s probably about Lou, we’ll call you back, Gemms,” said Niall easily and dismissed her before accepting Liam’s call and putting him on speaker, too. Harry stared at the screen and actually jumped when Liam’s voice came through:  
“Harry?”  
Niall shoved him and Harry said.  
“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. How is it going?”  
He looked at Niall as he asked it, and the latter shook his head, mouthing ‘pathetic’. Harry punched his thigh.  
“I’m alright, thanks. I’m calling because of Louis, actually,” Liam said and Harry noticed an agitated tone to his voice. Next second they heard voices in the background, then a door closing and the voices disappeared. Harry sat up straight and grabbed his phone.  
“Is he okay? Are you in the hospital?”  
“We are,” he said and Harry shot up, Niall hot on his heels. “He had some sort of drink, he wouldn’t tell me which one, and I found him red faced and he was breathing with difficulty. I drove him to the hospital, they said it’s because of his allergy. He is alright now, they gave him some sort of medicine, he breathes okay now,” Liam recited as Harry got dressed and collected his things. “It was as if he was having asthma, you know?”  
“I know,” Harry said, he and Niall running to the door. “Which hospital are you in?”  
“I’ll send you a text. We are here all night, they wanted to watch him and make sure he is okay. Did he ever have that before?”  
“Yeah,” Harry said, sliding his trainers on. “A few years ago. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Did you tell Johannah?”  
“Lou asked me not to. He asked me not to tell anybody, but I thought you at least should know.”  
“Thank you, Liam. See you in a bit.”  
“What is up with his allergy? I thought he got it under control? Like it was an age thingy?” Niall asked as they sped down the stairs and into the fresh air. Harry’s phone buzzed with Liam’s text and he called a taxi before replying to Niall.  
“His doctor did say it could pass away with time. But remember he had a reaction a few months ago, at the end of the semester? At the pub that night?”  
“Right. So that didn’t go away, then?”  
“Well, it was never supposed to ease without him avoiding all alcohol for a time. And he didn’t tell Liam what he drank,” Harry said and took in a deep breath, trying to calm his heart down. There weren’t any people around them, it must have been at least one in the morning.  
“Hey. He is alright, H, Liam told you,” Niall said, squeezing his shoulder gently.  
“But what if he drank because of me? He is too responsible to drink on a whim, he knows how it can end,” Harry said as his eyes stung. He sniffed into his sleeve and Niall clapped him on the back gently.  
“There we go,” Niall said as they saw their car pull up. He held the doors open for Harry and got in right after him.  
“We’ll be there in less than ten minutes and you’ll make sure Lou is alright, yeah?” Niall continued in a soothing voice.  
Harry nodded, looking into the window and fighting down his tears and a wobbling chin. Stupid Louis with his stupid allergy. Why did he drink if he bloody well knew he shouldn’t have? What did he drink? What if Liam did not walk in on him?  
Harry shut his eyes and scrunched his face, letting one sob escape him before collecting himself. The driver paid them no mind and Harry was thankful. Soon they stopped and Harry shot out of the car so soon that Niall caught him only at the entrance. Harry fished out his phone and called Liam, but the necessity of a call was soon obviated.  
“Harry!” Liam said from where he stood by the elevators.  
“Liam, thank god,” Harry and Niall ran up to him.  
“You were so quick,” Liam said with a small smile, which Niall returned for Harry.  
“Got here as soon as we could manage,” Niall said and they entered the elevator. Liam jammed the third floor and the doors closed, leaving only them three inside.  
“How is he?” Harry asked.  
“He is alright, Harry. He is sleeping now, and a nurse checks on him every hour. They said if he avoids alcohol in the future he will be completely fine.”  
The lift stopped and they poured out onto the floor.  
“This way,” Liam said and Niall pushed Harry gently in the back. “We won’t wake him up, yeah?”  
“Of course,” Harry said at once as they went on and on down the corridor. Did it ever end? “Just want to see he is alright and breathing okay.”  
Liam gave him another one of those sympathetic smiles and Harry averted his gaze. They stopped by a door and Liam gestured to a small glass opening at the top of it. Harry got to his tippy toes and quickly scanned the room. He saw four beds, three of which were occupied. In the one by the left wall, right under the window, was Louis, curled up in a ball and breathing softly. Harry thought he could hear his breathing, but that must only be his imagination. He smiled faintly and pressed his nose against the glass, feeling relief rush through his veins. He must have looked like a right idiot, because soon Niall said in a voice of amusement,  
“Mate, you better get down. A nurse is coming.”  
Harry stole one last look at the sleeping boy and stepped away just as a lady of about forty came up to the door.  
“Visiting hours are from three to five.”  
“Sorry,” Harry said. “Didn’t mean to disturb anybody. Just wanted to know if our friend was alright.”  
Her eyes softened and she smiled.  
“Is it the allergy boy?”  
Harry didn’t know why, but he smiled at that.  
“The allergy boy,” he confirmed.  
“I’ll tell him you visited when he wakes up.”  
“Please don’t!” Harry exclaimed and she gave a start. “Sorry,” he added, quieter. “We might not be on the best terms right now. Please don’t tell him I came. Just tell him Liam is here,” he said pointing to his left where he hoped Liam was still lingering.  
She sighed, but her eyes stayed soft.  
“Boys,” she muttered before finally opening the door.  
“How has he been, Liam?” Harry asked quietly, stepping up and getting to his tippy toes again. He watched the nurse check Louis’ pulse and then do something fancy which he didn’t know how to call.  
“Not his best, I’m afraid. He didn’t leave his room much, ordered take away. I would just come to take his dirty dishes away and bring him tea. I gather you had a falling out of sorts?”  
Harry swallowed and stepped away again, head hanging low.  
“I hurt him real bad.”  
“Oh.”  
Suddenly, Harry realised that if Liam knew what he had done, he would probably hate Harry, too. He bit his lip and shot Niall a glance, who nodded back, though reluctantly.  
“I will try talking to him when he feels a bit better, I promise. Just don’t tell him I told you that and that I was here, okay? I don’t think he would like that very much right now.”  
Liam surveyed him for a few long seconds before nodding.  
“Thank you.”  
“Least I can do,” Liam shrugged. “Do you want to go home?”  
Harry glanced at the clock. It was half past two in the morning. He looked at Niall who shrugged in response, agreeing to whatever Harry’s plan was. Harry loved Niall very much.  
“Would you text us when Lou is out of here?”  
“Sure. So you want to stay?”  
“Yeah, but I think we’d better wait outside.”  
“Do you know if we can get coffee here somewhere?” Niall asked, and Harry loved him just that much more.  
Ten minutes later Niall and Harry were sitting on a bench behind the building, a cup of coffee in their hands.  
“Do you think I should talk to him?”  
“What, now?” Niall asked, glancing down at his watch. “You said yourself – he probably won’t be that chuffed about it now.”  
Harry sighed, gripping his hot paper cup tighter, the wooden bench hard beneath his bum. Niall yawned beside him. Harry took the last sip of his latte, threw the cup into the bin, and looked up at the sky. They couldn’t see all the stars because of the city lights but even those that were visible were enough to catch his thoughts for a second.  
“You could talk to Zayn though. You owe him an apology,” Niall said quietly, and by his changed voice Harry could tell he was looking up, too.  
“I probably should, yeah.”  
They sat some longer, watching the stars and listening to an occasional car passing by.  
“Do you think he’d forgive me?”  
“Zayn or Lou?”  
Harry smirked, his chest filled with bitterness.  
“Both.”  
“Well,” Niall said, dropping his head and rolling it right and left. “Over the course of time, maybe.”  
“Sounds promising.”  
“Hey,” Niall nudged his shoulder till Harry brought his head down. “I’m not here to sugarcoat it, alright? You messed up, but you didn’t kill anyone and that’s always a good sign in my book.”  
Harry laughed breathily. Niall hugged him by the shoulders.  
“I’m sorry for shouting at you that time. I felt like shit not talking to you afterwards. I’m sorry,” Harry said, closing his eyes and focusing on Niall’s steady breathing. The lack of sleep was blanketing him now, and he was almost ready to fall asleep right there, in the hospital’s backyard on Niall’s shoulder.  
“Drop it, H. Fights happen, no biggie.”  
“I just haven’t been my best lately, you know.”  
“That’s what I told you.”  
Harry uncrossed his arms and hugged Niall by the waist. Niall cooed.  
“Aren’t you sweet.”  
Harry smiled, chest still constricted.  
His phone buzzed and he handed it to Niall wordlessly.  
“Liam is driving Lou home now. He woke up and they say he is good to go.”  
“Good,” Harry said as Niall placed the phone into his lap. They sat in silence for a while, and then he took one last calming breath in Niall’s arms and gently untangled himself; he sat upright and ran his hands down his face.  
“Should I go talk to Zayn now? He may be at the pub today.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Harry shrugged.  
“Might as well.”  
“Do you want me to come with?”  
“No, it’s better if I’m on my own,” Harry said and stood up. “Come on, I’ll see you home.”  
Niall threw his cup into the bin and put his hands into his pockets, lifting his shoulders a bit. They started walking, Niall jumping a little.  
“Are you that cold?”  
“I’m freezing my bum off. I dunno how you aren’t,” Niall said, nodding at Harry’s t-shirt, which was his only top.  
“But it’s summer.”  
“It’s nighttime, nights can be chilly,” Niall said, shifting in his zipped-up jacket. Harry watched him shiver slightly and grinned maniacally.  
“Race me!” he shouted, already running down the pavement.  
“Fucker!” Niall grunted from behind, and Harry heard his footsteps.  
They ran for a long, long time, along the buildings and through shortcuts Harry knew from living three years in the city, and Harry felt his lungs expand and his energy coming back to him. By the time they stopped, sweaty, panting, and leaning on their knees with their hands, Harry felt like grinning. So he did.  
“Fucker,” Niall repeated, standing upright again and looking at the sky. He took another deep breath.  
“Warm now?”  
“So thoughtful of you.”  
Harry just smiled.  
“Gonna go?” Niall asked. Harry nodded, dropping his head. “Good luck.”  
“Thanks. G’night, sleep tight.”  
Niall waved at him, starting to walk with his back first.  
Harry mirrored him and both chuckled before turning their own ways.  
Harry walked to the pub trying not to think of anything. For the most part, he managed – he made himself count tiles he stepped on. When he could see the pub, he stopped, hidden behind the trees. Zayn was having a smoke at the back door, alone. Harry bit his lip and started walking again.  
Before he could reach the building though, Zayn put out his cigarette and turned to leave.  
“Zayn, wait!” Harry shouted without thinking, breaking into a run. Zayn turned around and frowned at him.  
“Harry?”  
“Yeah, hi,” Harry said, stopping a few steps away. Zayn swallowed and crossed his arms, his face hardening.  
“Did you want something?”  
“As a matter of fact, I did, yeah,” Harry said, running his hand through his hair. He opened his mouth but then closed it, and looked around instead.  
“I’ve got a shift to finish.”  
Harry snapped his gaze back at him, heart beating faster.  
“Yeah, sorry. I wanted to apologise.”  
Zayn smirked as if that was the most expected thing Harry could say. It probably was.  
“I thought so.”  
“Zayn, listen, I know I acted like a dick to you. But I had a really good time with you.”  
“Zayn!” someone shouted.  
“Coming!” Zayn shouted back and turned to Harry, leaving his hand on the door handle. ”Yeah, but you forgot to mention I was a rebound.”  
Harry’s eyes widened.  
“You weren’t!”  
Zayn stared at him. Harry felt helpless.  
“Alright, maybe you were, but I didn’t mean for it to go like that. Please, Zayn,” Harry clasped his hands into prayer, his lack of sleep making him almost drop to his knees. “I’m so sorry, I truly am. I admit I made a huge mistake when I didn’t text you, and I’m really, really sorry about it.”  
Zayn watched him for three silent seconds and then shook his head. He opened the doors wider and stepped inside.  
“I like you, Harry, I stand by it. But you have to pull yourself together,” he said to his boots. “Don’t think I will be friendly to you again. You hurt me, and I think you deserve to feel the way you do now.”  
“But-”  
“Good night, Harry.”  
The doors closed, and Harry stayed there, staring at them for another minute before admitting defeat and letting his shoulders sag.  
He turned around and looked at the city surrounding him. Almost all the lights were out, what with it being almost dawn soon, and it appeared as if everybody was asleep, even though Harry was literally standing by a pub. Which, yeah, the pub. Harry should probably move.  
He walked in the direction opposite to where he came from, and he couldn’t really tell where he was walking to. He looked but didn’t see much of anything. He thought of Louis in that tiny hospital bed and thought of how his own heart kept beating in his chest all the way in the taxi. He thought about how just a few hours ago he was sitting on his bed fretting to Gemma and Niall about how hurt and sad he felt, while Louis needed a doctor to pull him right.  
He felt so much emotion that he had to shut his eyes really tight to just keep it in, feeling like his body was too small to contain it. He felt worried for Louis, guilty at the thought that Louis might have drunk because of him, jealous at the thought he might not have been the reason for drinking, angry at himself for the mistakes he made, angry at Eleanor for ruining everything but then he felt annoyed at himself for thinking of her that way when she did nothing wrong.  
Harry smashed his shoulder into something and opened his eyes only now realising he was walking with them closed. It seemed that he walked into a post and now his shoulder ached with a dull pain. He quickly looked around but there was nobody in the street. In fact, he didn’t really know where he was at the moment. There was some sort of park to his right and a road to his left with a few shops, it seemed, on the other side. He glimpsed a few flat blocks and turned around on the pavement a few more times, trying to make up his mind on what to do. Should he call a taxi and go sleep? He didn’t feel like sleeping. He rather felt like wallowing in misery some more, if he said so himself.  
He walked across the pavement and stepped over the short hedge to get into the park. He was sure that was forbidden by some sort of law to protect the grass and everything, so he ran over the trimmed lawn on his tip-toes, even though there was nobody around to see him.  
It was growing lighter already, the stars disappearing slowly, and the pitch black of the night giving way to a bluer sky.  
Harry stepped onto a path and walked further into the park, not really knowing what he was looking for. Sitting felt like too lazy a task at the moment. The place felt strangely peaceful, even though it was still rather dark and most definitely lonely. He stopped by the first bench he found and looked at it, pursing his lips. It did not look that welcoming. His eye caught on the trees behind the bench and a grass patch there. He thought he glimpsed a person. Harry tensed up. The person seemed to be looking back at him.  
“Hello?” Harry asked.  
“Harry? Is that you?” asked a familiar voice and Harry had to work through his memory for a few seconds.  
“Alex? What are you doing here?”  
Harry walked up to him and saw that Alex was lying on a blanket in the grass.  
“Just, you know,” Alex said, not sitting up. He tapped the place beside him. “Wanna join?”  
Harry plopped down and laid back. He could see the sky from between the leaves of the tree they were now under.  
“It’s quite beautiful down here.”  
“Isn’t it?” Alex said quietly. They lay in silence for some time, Harry relaxing more and more. His lack of sleep seemed to get to him now, making his legs feel sore and heavy. He bent his arm behind his head so he could rest on it like a pillow and closed his eyes. Alex said,  
“So, are we going to lie here in silence or spill our secrets and pretend that never happened?”  
“I don’t have any energy for sex if you want it for comfort though.”  
“I’m not feeling it lately. The sex thing, I mean.”  
Harry opened his eyes and frowned at him. Then, his tired brain started putting two and two together.  
“Are you in love, mate?” he said, careful to put no judgement in his words.  
“Judging by the fact you look shit and find lying on grass at four in the morning beautiful, I’d assume you are, too,” Alex said, crossing his arms whilst still lying all the way down.  
Harry smiled, his whole face feeling tired.  
“Why do I have an inkling I know exactly who the lad is?” he said, propping himself on the elbow.  
“Because you always knew that Irish bastard hated me?”  
“So it was you who was texting Niall all this time!”  
“He didn’t tell you?”  
“I don’t think he told anybody.”  
“Bastard.”  
“Hey,” Harry said, lying back down and feeling giddy for no reason. “Don’t call Niall a bastard.”  
“How do you call a person whom you fell in love with for the first time since middle school and who wouldn’t even deem you worthy enough to reply to a text?”  
Harry took his time to think through his feelings of unrequited love, but found that he was too tired to feel anything. He focused on Alex instead.  
“Just for the record, Niall is straight. At least he has been for as long as I remember.”  
Alex heaved a sigh. Harry closed his eyes again.  
“Did you try talking to him?”  
“He wouldn’t even reply to a message, and he runs away the moment I come into his field of vision. Or at least he did when I tried to approach him at uni.”  
“Sounds like Nialler,” Harry said with a small smile and Alex sobbed. Harry sat upright.  
“Hey, Al, hey,” he said, pulling the other man up gently. His face was glistening with tears, which he must have been letting fall silently. “Shh,” Harry said, hugging him and stroking his back soothingly.  
“Why did I have to fall in love with someone straight, Harry, why?”  
“Trust me, I know the feeling.”  
“I feel useless, you know? No matter what I do I’m just completely powerless,” Alex continued like he didn’t even hear Harry. He probably didn’t. Harry could feel his shoulder getting wet from the tears, but he didn’t say anything. “I can’t fucking sleep, I can’t eat, I barely got through the exam week, shit, I can’t even fuck people anymore – I don’t want to! What’s wrong with me, Harry?”  
“Shh,” Harry said, embracing him harder. “It will get better. I promise it will,” he said not knowing if it was true or not. He hoped it was – living in the agony he’s been in lately forever did not seem like a cheerful prospect.  
“How do you know?”  
He heard it in the movies, was the real answer.  
“Just trust me on this, love, yeah? It will get better. We will get through. It happens to everybody at some point in life. Just means we are human.”  
Alex sighed into his shoulder and moved closer. Harry hugged him still tighter and kept stroking his back. Tears built up at the back of his throat and he scrunched his brows really hard not to let them fall. If they were both crying, that would be absolutely pathetic. He had to stay the strong one, at least until he was in the safety of his room.  
So he willed the tears away and made every effort to keep his voice even when he talked Alex into going home. He called them a taxi and dropped Alex off first, giving away his last cash to the driver when he drove to his and Niall’s flat. He seemed to have walked quite a long way that night.  
He entered the flat when it was fully light outside, hearing Niall’s snores from his room. He smiled sadly at his door, thinking what pain he was unknowingly putting Alex into while at the same time trying to help Harry through his pain. What a confusing world.


	10. Chapter 10

Nine days, eighteen calls, and countless unanswered texts later, Harry still hadn’t seen Louis. He still called him each day, morning and night, but to no avail. Niall kept him busy with guitar lessons, pub concerts, and binging TV. Sometimes Harry felt that if Niall wasn’t there, he would have spent his days in bed without eating anything. But thanks to Niall, Harry ate three times a day, showered, and even went outside a few times. Bless Niall.  
Liam texted him the first few days after the hospital incident, letting him know he threw away all alcohol and made sure Louis was eating well and drinking lots of water, as per doctors’ recommendations. After a few days his texts stopped though, and Harry had no idea what Louis was up to.  
Niall made them go through their songs, so that now they finished the music for Act My Age, making a recording of it on their phone. Harry kept whining that it was absolutely useless and nobody would want to hear it done so unprofessionally, but Niall flipped him off and pressed record again and again.  
On the night they finished it at half two in the morning, they danced to the recording around Niall’s room, jumping and flailing their arms around, skin sticky from sweat. Niall was whisper-shouting the song, so as not to get into trouble with the neighbours, and Harry closed his eyes while he was dancing, feeling tired and accomplished and like he wasn’t completely worthless. He inadvertently punched Niall in the stomach during one particularly complicated arm flail and ended up on his knees, hugging Niall’s tummy and murmuring nonsensical apologies, all accompanied by Niall’s roar of laughter.  
The next day they went out to get smashed and, on purpose or not, ended up at Zayn’s pub, which was the third one in the row. To be fair, Harry couldn’t tell Niall from another patron at this point of night, so he did not blame himself when he spotted Zayn’s face behind the bar. But he did lead them to the table furthest away, and sent Niall to get them drinks. He rejoined Harry with a shake of the head and a sad blink, strongly resembling an owl. Harry dropped his head onto his forearms and groaned softly when he missed his target and bumped his forehead on the table.  
“He’ll come around.”  
“He wants me to suffer,” Harry mumbled into the table, the bump on his forehead pulsating. Niall burped and said:  
“Rightly so.”  
“You are a bad, bad friend, Nialler.”  
“Are you, though? Suffering?”  
Harry lifted his head and squinted at the opposite wall, thinking. Or at least trying to think because his brain was a mush, and not a tasty one at that, he suspected.  
“ ‘tis hard to tell, to be honest. I don’t think I feel anything. I just want it back to normal, but I don’t think I- yeah.”  
“I love your way with words. You are always so eloquent when you are drunk.”  
“And you laugh so much my head hurts,” Harry frowned and dropped his head back down, this time managing to land on his actual forearms. Niall laughed again, and Harry shoved his leg under the table.  
“You better drink your cocktail, mate. I didn’t pay six quid for nothing.”  
“It won’t get cold, will it? I’ll drink it when I drink it.”  
Niall pushed his ankle under the table, and Harry flipped him a bird without raising his head.  
The song changed, and Harry still hadn’t lifted his head. He was actually contemplating sleeping there, whilst Niall was chatting to someone at the neighboring table. He heard a cough from behind and ignored it. When he heard it again, he lifted his head and turned around, squinting against the lights.  
“Do you need a cough syru- Oh. Hi.”  
Zayn was standing there in a plaid shirt with his hands behind his back. He glanced at Niall’s vacated chair, and Harry pushed it further away from the table.  
“Want to have a seat?”  
Zayn nodded and rounded the table. He sat down and gazed at Harry; Harry bit his lip.  
“Could you say something? I’m already feeling guilty enough as it is, I don’t need the aggravating stare.”  
That earned him a chuckle, and he relaxed. Zayn looked up again, and Harry glimpsed the very man he knew before he screwed it all up.  
“I wanted you to know that I forgave you. Now that you are here.”  
“You did?” Harry asked, sitting up straighter. He didn’t know he needed to hear these words so much, but when Zayn nodded, Harry’s shoulders sagged and he looked at the ceiling, letting out all the air he had in his lungs. “Thank god,” he said quietly.  
“You alright, H?” Niall shouted from the right. Harry showed him a thumbs up, and he went back to his mate. Harry looked at Zayn again.  
“What did I do to deserve it?”  
Zayn shrugged.  
“I don’t like being in conflict with someone.”  
Harry raised his eyebrows.  
“That’s it? How about when you thought I deserved to feel what I felt?” he asked with no heat behind it and, to his surprise, Zayn blushed.  
“I may have met someone.”  
“Who is the lucky one?”  
“Liam.”  
“Liam!”  
Harry stared at Zayn, while people in the pub all glanced around at the exclamation. Harry blinked at Zayn.  
“You didn’t,” he added, quieter, tone still incredulous.  
“I did, actually. He is a nice lad, you don’t give him enough credit.”  
Harry fish mouthed for a second.  
“I’m glad to hear it, I suppose. Happy for you. Well done.”  
Zayn chuckled and shook his head.  
“Not my fault, it was he who came to me. It was actually on that day you caught me smoking.”  
“Must have been a nice change.”  
“It really was. And Liam told me Louis hasn't left his room lately. Made me think someone had it worse than I did.”  
His heart gave a sad clench, and all his good mood evaporated just like that. Harry swallowed as he felt sweat gather at the nape of his neck and a ball of anxiety grow in his tummy.  
“In what way?” he asked. Zayn looked at him, no smile on his face this time.  
“From what Liam told me Louis is really hurt, Harry. I think you should apologise.”  
“But I did! I sent him a million texts, he wouldn’t answer! And I call him every day, but he just ignores it all!”  
“Why not visit him?”  
Harry blinked.  
“Wouldn’t that be invading his personal space? Wouldn’t I be rude?”  
“Personal space? You are best mates, what personal space are you talking about?”  
“But Lou needs his time to... I dunno what he does with it, but he always needs alone time.”  
“It’s been more than a fortnight, Harry. Surely that was plenty of “alone time”.”  
Harry’s whole body tensed up. He stared at the opposite wall but could not see anything. He was going to do it. He would go to Louis today.  
He looked at his shoulder and found Zayn’s hand there, squeezing it gently.  
“Go see him, Harry. Liam jogs in the mornings, he can let you in, he’ll be up. Or you can go right now.”  
“I have a key,” Harry said absently. “But he’ll be sleeping now.”  
“Then go see him in the morning, yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Good,” Zayn said, patting his shoulder again. “And, Harry?” he said, pausing on his way to the bar. Harry looked at him, feeling just as absent. “Be more careful next time, okay? Because it probably won’t be that easy.”  
“But it wasn’t ea...” he started but stopped at Zayn’s face. “I will be,” he said then, and Zayn nodded before leaving.  
Harry found Niall and told him he was leaving before getting a cab.

When he got home, he couldn’t sleep. He paced his room, turning the light on and off each time he passed the switch. After about an hour he heard Niall come back and plopped down onto his bed in the dark room. It was nearing dawn now, the sky getting lighter and lighter. He tried to lay down but couldn’t keep his eyes closed. He was going to see Louis. He was going to see Louis for the first time in more than a week.  
He sat down at his table and turned on his desk lamp. After rummaging through the first drawer, he got out a sheet of paper and started cutting it into ribbons. He bumped his forehead on the table again when he bent down to find the colour pencils, hissing and rubbing the sore spot. Careful not to hit his head again, he straightened up, three pencils in his mouth. He spew them onto the table, scrunching his face at the loud clatter, and started writing, tongue peeking out:  
“Movie night at home”, “Walk around Manchester”, “Walk in the gardens”, “Cinema”, “Coffee at Corrie’s”, “Reading aloud”, “Cartoon Night!”, “Knitting? (I will try)”, “Ice-Skating”, “Karaoke”, “Reality TV”, “Sun-bathing”, “Picnic on the rooftop”.  
The sky was more blue than navy when he raised his head the next time. Almost every window was dark now. Harry gathered the little paper pieces, tied them together with his hair elastic and put them on the table. He glanced at the clock. It was not even four yet.  
The kitchen was dark, the counters displaying plenty of washed dishes, the sink housing a few dirty bowls. Harry pushed the doors closed with his bum, went up to the oven and found the biggest bowl they owned. He rummaged through the fridge and cupboards, taking out their flour, eggs, milk, cinnamon, sugar, and, after a little digging, a package of dry yeast. Harry clapped his hands and stared at all the ingredients on their small kitchen table.  
“Right, cinnamon buns.”

Making the dough took the majority of the morning, and by the time the flat smelled heavenly, Harry was fully awake and buzzing with energy. He couldn’t stop smiling. It was going to be a good day, he just knew it.  
He put some of the buns into a container while they were still warm, licking the sticky glaze from his fingers. He left the rest on the table for Niall to devour for breakfast, with a note “Those are my thank you for your patience.”  
He put the container into his backpack, threw on a jacket and left the flat when the clock barely hit seven.

When he neared Louis’ place, he saw Liam.  
“Nice shorts, Liam!” Harry shouted through a grin, propping the small container against his hip.  
Liam stopped and turned around with one earbud still in his hand. He smiled when he saw him.  
“Harry! Good to see you!”  
“You too, mate. I'm bringing buns, by the way. So you’d better have a good jog.”  
Liam smiled wider.  
“I will. Lou was still sleeping when I left. But I think he would be happy to see you.”  
“You think so?”  
“I think so.”  
Harry glanced at the ground, suddenly feeling guilty about his thoughts on Liam before. He looked up to see him still smiling amiably at him.  
“Goodluck, Harry.”  
“Thank you.”  
Harry watched him round the corner before heading for the steps.  
When he unlocked the flat doors, feeling a bit thief-like, he stopped to listen for any sounds. It was completely silent. Harry toed off his trainers on the carpet and held his breath as he tip-toed up to Louis’ room and pushed the doors open to peek in.  
Louis was, indeed, sleeping. The room was still dimly lit because of the drawn curtains, and Louis lay curled up into a ball, his head on his hands, and his knees peeking from under the blanket. Harry took a breath in and closed the doors just as quietly, going into the neat little kitchen instead. He made the tea and plated the buns while he waited for it to brew. He kept glancing at Louis’ door, afraid he might wake him up, but all went smoothly. When he entered the room with two steaming cups and a plate precariously balanced on his forearm, Louis was still sleeping. Harry deposited everything onto the bedside table and dropped to his knees in front of Louis, taking a moment to calm his beating heart.  
“Lou,” he said quietly, gently squeezing Louis’ wrist. “Lou-u.”  
Louis stirred and blinked his eyes open, looking confused. Harry grinned.  
“Hi,” Harry said, giving his hand a little squeeze.  
Louis sat up and did not smile, instead looking at Harry with a frown. Harry’s smile wobbled.  
“What are you doing here?”  
Louis extracted his hand from Harry’s grip. Harry’s hands fell onto the floor.  
“I came with apologies. And I brought buns,” Harry said, gesturing to the plate but already feeling small and stupid. Louis looked at his bedside table and then back at Harry, still frowning. Harry lowered his gaze. “And I’m sorry.”  
Louis didn’t answer, and Harry’s throat swell with shame. He glanced up at Louis, who was now looking at his lap.  
“Lou?” Harry asked, standing on his knees. He carefully placed a hand on Louis’ knee, protected by the blanket. Louis looked up but didn’t say anything. Harry held his gaze, not daring to smile or even blink. When Louis didn’t say anything but didn’t push his hand away either, Harry swallowed and took hold of his fingers again. Louis followed the movement with his eyes and kept them fixed on their hands, where Harry’s thumb was stroking his knuckles, when Harry spoke:  
“I know it hurt you when you saw Zayn. You must have felt betrayed by me and maybe you felt that my words from before were empty.”  
Louis looked up. He frowned, and Harry could see he guessed correctly. Louis was still hurt. He swallowed and continued:  
“But I also wanted to say that when I was dating Zayn, I thought that you were with Eleanor and that I would never be able to be with you because you liked me as a friend and did not see me as a boyfriend.”  
“It still hurt, princess.”  
“I can imagine.”  
“Can you?”  
“I recognized my feelings for you when I saw you with El. I don’t think I fully realized I was in love with you, but I think it’s safe to say I felt hurt. Even though you had no intention of hurting me.”  
“But you told me you had feelings for me, and next thing I know you were going out with Zayn. How does that work?”  
“Because I didn’t know if you would be willing to even stay friends with me, Lou. I was scared I would be alone, with no love and no best mate in my life. And I didn’t go to see Zayn and to ask him out. It just happened. I felt horrible for the last few months you’ve been dating El, and I could feel there was more and more distance between us by the day. And then, when I told you how I felt, I thought I burned all the bridges and you would never want to see me again. And Niall and I weren’t on best terms at the time, either. Then Zayn talked to me, and we started being sort of together, and I could forget about it all, even if for those few hours a day that I was with him.”  
“Do you love him now?”  
“No, of course not. My relationship with him was never love. We were both lonely, and we gave company to each other. He is a nice lad, we had a lot to talk about.”  
Louis dropped his gaze and nodded, but Harry did not get the feeling that he enjoyed the explanation. Harry gave his hand another squeeze and leant forward to catch his eyes.  
“Lou, you need to remember that you and I were not a thing when Zayn and I were together.”  
“But you have just told me about your feelings and immediately started dating him. I still can’t wrap my head around that.”  
“I just don’t see sex as that much of a big thing. And I don’t think Zayn does, either.”  
“And if you were properly going out with someone, would you like to be able to have sex with other people?”  
“No,” Harry said, smiling for the first time. Louis only frowned further. “I never dated anyone, did I?”  
“So how do you know you will be satisfied with just one person? What if you got bored?”  
“I don’t think I was ever bored with you, petal.”  
“Who said I was talking about myself?”  
Harry’s breath hitched, but he grinned through it.  
“Well, I wouldn’t want to date anybody else, if you must know.”  
“Yet you did date Zayn.”  
“For, like, four days? I never even made a decision to date him, we just started hanging out, and that was it.”  
“How do I know you won’t just start “hanging out” with someone while we are dating?”  
“Have I ever betrayed you?”  
Louis raised his eyebrows incredulously.  
“I mean, apart from the Zayn thing.”  
“I can’t believe you, princess!” Louis said, leaning back and taking his hand away. Harry felt as if he slapped him on the face; he got up and took a step back from the bed.  
“What exactly is wrong with that situation?” Harry asked, crossing his arms.  
Louis raised his eyebrows once again.  
“What’s wrong? You want to know what’s wrong? You wouldn't apologise for what you’ve done and you act like it was completely normal for you to sleep with Zayn while you insist that you love me, that’s what’s wrong!”  
Louis was kneeling on the bed now, his voice loud in the tiny room. Harry took another step back, eyes wide.  
“What do you mean I wouldn’t apologise? I said I’m sorry first thing this morning! And I just told you I never thought I’d have a chance with you, so was I wrong to try to move on?”  
“Isn’t that a bit soon to move on? You spent what, three hours without me?”  
“It was a day, actually.”  
“Big comfort! Harry, don’t you understand? Your feelings don’t look genuine to me because you were able to throw them aside so easily!”  
“Who said that was easy?”  
“Oh, I see, fucking Zayn was difficult for you.”  
“It was hard to realize I lost you, Louis! And I wanted to feel better, even if for a bit – so what’s wrong with that?”  
“Did you have to sleep with someone to feel better? Would you pull one-night stands every time we had a quarrel?”  
“Stop talking about it like I’m some sort of sex-addict!”  
“Well, prove that you aren’t!”  
“If you must know, not everyone is so worked up about sex, and if the two people know why they are doing it, I think it is completely okay.”  
“So Zayn knew you were just using him?”  
Harry flinched before glaring at Louis, who was red in the face.  
“What’s it to you? Nobody used you, did they?”  
“Well, where is the guarantee you aren’t using me right now to get over someone else?”  
“Do you really think that?” Harry asked, voice quieter. He felt drained. Before Louis could answer, Harry said, still quieter: “Why do you need proof for everything, Lou? Love doesn’t work like that. It’s not math or science, it’s about trusting the other with your feelings. You don’t need proof for that.”  
“How can I trust you if you betrayed me before we started dating, princess? How?”  
Harry heaved a sigh and dropped onto the floor, hiding his face in his knees. They sat in silence, Harry listening to his own breathing, which was getting deeper and deeper the more he tried to breathe past the lump in his throat.  
“Is there anything I can do for you to give me a chance?” he asked without raising his head.  
“I just need to know you are genuine,” Louis said, and he sounded just as tired as Harry felt. Harry looked up, his eyes stinging. He could see Louis’ fence falling, too – his eyes were red around the edges, making the blue stand out.  
“Genuine? I couldn’t sleep much this whole time. I did not sleep a single hour this night, actually. I was thinking of how I could make it up to you, so I baked those at four in the morning, I wrote you a list of things we could do together today. And I wasn’t myself for the last two months, probably. If not for Niall this week, I don’t think I would have left the bed at all.”  
Harry continued to stare at him, even as the picture was getting more and more blurry with each word. He wiped his eyes, sniffed, and looked at Louis again. He gestured to his face.  
“Does this look genuine to you? Or do you think it’s all pretence so that I can just sleep with you and continue on my merry way of fucking everything I see?”  
“I didn’t mean it like that, princess, you know that,” Louis said, sliding out of bed. He scooped closer to Harry and now it was him kneeling on the floor with his hand on Harry’s. Harry opened his palms and hid Louis’ hands in his.  
“And where is the proof for that?” he asked, smiling sadly. He sniffed again, and Louis dropped his gaze.  
“I’m sorry for what I’ve said. I know you are a lot better than that, princess. I’m just hurt, and I think I wanted revenge.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I think I love you, too.”  
Harry smiled and felt as if the sun found itself in his stomach, filling him with warmth and light to the brim.  
“Do you really?”  
Louis smiled bashfully and nodded.  
“I don’t think I ever stopped, to be honest.”  
“Oh, Lou,” Harry said, letting go of his hands.  
He stood on his knees and hugged Louis close. Louis clinged back to him at once, and Harry felt relief flood his body. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes, finally feeling the lack of sleep. But he also felt warm and content and like he was exactly where he wanted to be.  
“Did you really bake them buns at four in the morning?” Louis asked into his shoulder, and Harry heard a smile. He grinned into Louis’ neck.  
“I did, actually. But I think the tea must be cold now.”  
“I suppose we’ll just have to make another cup. Or two.”  
“But not now, okay? I want to hug you a little longer.”  
“I don’t think I have an objection to that.”  
Harry smiled and kissed behind Louis’ ear before hiding his face back in the crook of his neck.  
“Does it mean we are dating now?” he asked softly, not even believing he was finally saying the words.  
“Only if you promise I can still call you princess.”  
Harry smiled.  
“In the wise words of Alex Turner, ‘You can call me anything you want’.”  
“I love you.”  
Harry leant back but stayed close, bringing their foreheads together.  
“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly. It all felt like a movie to him. That is, until:  
“But I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!”  
Harry groaned and brought his gaze to the sky.  
“You just spoiled the best first kiss we could have hoped for!”  
“Oh, and you would like to remember our first kiss by my stinking breath, cause that’s so romantic.”  
“You are such a spoilsport,” Harry said, getting up.  
“Did you just call me ‘sport’? Are we in Great Gatsby?” Louis asked, as he helped him to his feet.  
Harry rolled his eyes and pulled him out of the room and into the bathroom. He gave him his toothbrush and toothpaste before saying:  
“You brush your teeth, and then we are snogging for as long as I say.”  
“That’s Liam’s, sweetheart.”  
Harry moaned again, ready to cry with exasperation, and dropped on the toilet seat. Louis giggled and took the brush and paste out of Harry’s limp hands.  
“Do you want to start on tea while I do it?” he asked.  
“Your clean teeth, me with tea, and we are kissing while the tea is cooling down. No more excuses,” Harry said from the door, pointing at himself and then at Louis. Louis smiled with a mouth full of toothpaste. 

Louis found Harry still in the kitchen, pouring hot water into the cups.  
“How is the tea going?”  
“Here,” Harry said, handing him his cup and already walking into his room.  
“It’s hot,” Louis said, watching with an amused smile as Harry stared at him over his shoulder from where he was placing his cup at the bedside table. They heard the door unlock.  
“I’m home!” Liam said loudly, and Louis giggled before turning into the corridor, his cup still in his hand.  
“Would you like some tea with us, Payno? Harry brought buns.”  
“Oh, did he?”  
Harry made a sound somewhere between exasperation and anguish. He walked up to Louis, took the cup from him and poked his head into the corridor. Liam was still untying his trainers. He stopped at the look on Harry’s face, supporting his foot by the laces.  
“Liam, I’m really sorry, but I need Louis on his own now. I left you some buns on the table, please enjoy. And if you need anything, wait till we are out, alright?”  
Liam stared at them, one leg still in the air.  
“Do you want me to go outside? Or pop my headphones on?”  
Louis giggled, blushing, and even Harry broke a smile.  
“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Harry said. “Hope you enjoy the buns,” Harry said and closed the door with his free hand.  
He walked to the bedside table and put the cup there before turning to look at Louis, who was still standing by the door. Harry walked up in two long strides and placed his hands on Louis’ waist.  
“Can I kiss you now?”  
“Please.”  
One last surge forward – and Harry finally kissed Louis. He took it slow, relaxing into the kiss and feeling Louis relax against him. He walked them back to the bed and sat down, pulling Louis along. They kept kissing slowly, savouring each moment. At some point, when Harry was lax and heavy with sleep but had no intentions of stopping their snog, Louis said against his lips:  
“I think the tea is cold by now.”  
“Don’t care.”


	11. Chapter 11

Harry shifted on the bed, listening to Louis turn on the shower. He sighed, concentrating on the warm feeling in his stomach. He smiled and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds in their flat. He could hear the water running and Louis humming along to Christmas is All Around Me from Love, Actually; he could hear the wind blow against their bedroom’s window and when he opened his eyes he saw snow swirling outside, white against the late evening sky. He smiled at it and cuddled further into the blankets, not really wishing to leave his confinement in the foreseeable future. He would much rather stay in bed like they did all day today, watching Christmas movies and discussing presents for the family.  
It’s been almost six months since he and Louis started dating and sometimes Harry still could not really believe it. He kept smiling shyly whenever his mum would ask after Louis and grin stupidly when Louis said hello from Johannah; sometimes, when he woke up in the mornings before Louis, he had to pinch himself to make sure it was all real, especially after they moved in together this September.  
Niall was now living with Liam and there never passed a day when he wouldn’t text Harry about how he now had to clean up after himself every day and how still awkward it was to greet Zayn in the mornings when he stayed the night. Harry only rolled his eyes at him – he knew Niall liked living with Liam and (often) Zayn, but he did miss his best mate, too. But it was alright because they saw each other almost every day, what with the classes, songwriting, and footie; Harry was also quite sure Niall would take his head off if he ever missed his pub performance, so they saw each other every Friday, too.  
“You promised not to fall asleep, princess,” came Louis’ amused voice and Harry opened one eye and took in his boyfriend with a towel wrapped around his hips.  
“I‘m not sleeping,” Harry mumbled and drew the blankets further up. The wind blew against their window again and Harry closed his eyes. Just one more gorgeous warm minute, please.  
“You sure you want to go?” he said, opening his right eye again and sneaking a glance at Louis as he was pulling on his sweater now.  
“We promised we’d come. Everybody will be there.”  
Louis kneeled on the bed and flicked Harry’s nose gently.  
“Come on, princess, get up.”  
“Mmm,” Harry caught Louis’ hand and brought it under his cheek, causing Louis to lie down on his stomach. Louis chuckled. “How about we say we got sick and cannot come? And I’ll cook us pasta and you’ll make us tea to watch some movie? You could even pick the movie this time.”  
Louis snorted at that.  
“As tempting as that sounds, princess, – no. We could do it any other time, and it’s a big day for Niall and Lewis, we need to be there, you know we do.”  
Harry sighed. He knew he would never forgive himself if he missed the day Niall got his first song deal. He kissed Louis' palm and sat up, immediately huddling into the blanket like a cloak.  
“Brr,” he said as he got up and headed into the shower. He felt so grateful that he thought of showering in the morning and did not have to wet his hair in this ungodly cold. He took his toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste. “‘Ow mush time do we ‘ave?”  
“About ten minutes if we want to catch a bus.”  
Harry sighed again. Louis walked in and hugged him from the back, hooking his chin over Harry’s shoulder. Harry smiled and some toothpaste foam trickled down his chin.  
“Came to co’sole me in my mise’y?”  
Louis kissed his neck,  
“Just need a hairdryer, actually,” he said and squeezed Harry tighter before letting go.  
“Wanker,” Harry said and spit into the sink.  
“The way you spit saliva into the sink is so attractive, you know.”  
Harry looked at him while swooshing water in his mouth, his cheeks bulging. He raised an eyebrow and Louis laughed.  
“That’s living together for you,” Harry said and patted his mouth dry with the blanket.  
Louis was unfoiling the cord with a concentrated look on his face when Harry snatched him by the waist and brought him closer, the sweater fabric brushing against his bare skin.  
“Princess!” Louis said, catching himself on Harry’s shoulders, the hairdryer almost hitting Harry on the head.  
“Oops,” he said quietly, smiling. He leant in and kissed Louis slowly, feeling Louis exhale against his mouth.  
“We’ll be late.”  
“Wouldn’t hurt that much,” Harry said, bringing a hand under the sweater and feeling Louis lean in even closer.  
“Your fingers are cold, you know.”  
“Yeah?” Harry asked in between kisses, drawing circles lower and lower till he touched Louis’ jeans. “Maybe you can help me warm them?”  
“That,” Louis said, putting a hand on his chest and pushing away gently but firmly. “Is the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard,” he snatched the cord again and plugged the dryer into the outlet. He switched it on and literally aired Harry out of the room.

They entered the pub and waved at Zayn behind the bar. Louis dropped his gaze and Zayn looked a bit uncomfortable himself, but they were making progress. Harry, wishing to avoid another awkward conversation and temptation to apologise to both of them for a hundredth time, led Louis away from the bar and towards the stage. They found Alex at one of the tables close to the stage and joined him.  
“Evening, gents,” he nodded, winking at Harry.  
“Alright?” Harry asked, nudging him softly.  
“As good as ever,” Alex said, not looking overly happy, but not particularly sad, either.  
“Did Niall go away already? I hoped we could catch him before the performance,” Louis said.  
“Yeah, he said he wanted to go over something with Lewis, I never get what he is talking about when he mentions music.”  
“Talk to me about it,” Louis said with a glance at Harry.  
“Hey! You said yourself I explained everything nicely, didn’t I?” Harry said as Alex laughed at them.  
“Of course you do, princess, of course. But it’s like, no matter how many times I talk to you about i-dialects, you still wouldn’t understand them fully, would you?”  
Harry squinted, pursing his lips at them both. Alex looked behind him and Harry turned, too.  
Liam was approaching them, hands full of drinks, with Zayn right behind him.  
“Lou,” Liam said, dropping a glass of lemon juice in front of him. “Al, Harry,” he said, placing a pink cocktail and a pint in front of them. Zayn put another two pints for Liam and Niall on the table and, before walking away, brushed Louis’ and Harry’s hair from behind.  
“Have a good night, lads. Say hello to Nialler for me, yeah?” he said, already walking away.  
“Thanks, Zayn!” Louis said loudly and Zayn glanced over his shoulder, smiling a bit sadly. Harry swallowed his guilt which he felt every single time at the thought of what friendship he ruined by sleeping with Zayn. It seemed they were doomed for being awkward forever now, despite the little moments like these. Louis clapped his knee gently and Harry turned back towards the stage as the lights were deemed.  
The huge scene lamp poured yellow light onto the stage and Niall went out with a mic stand. They’ve quitted the chair some time ago now, making for a better view, in Harry’s opinion. It was Alex’s idea.  
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Niall said, looking around. Harry grinned like a proud friend he was even though Niall couldn’t probably see him.  
“Hey,” said someone from behind and they both looked up.  
“Harold! Rachel! You made it!” Harry whispered excitedly, sliding closer to Louis to make room for his friends.  
“Hey Harry, Lou,” Rachel said, pecking them both on the cheek. “Liam, Al,” she waved at them and smiled at Harold when he held a chair for her. “Are we late?” she whispered, glancing to the stage where Niall was telling the audience some anecdote like he usually did before the song.  
Harry whispered to her,  
“No. He’s only starting, you just made it.”  
“Good,” Harold said, shaking his hand across Rachel.  
“I think he is performing something new today?” Louis said.  
“He told me it was a surprise for you,” said Alex, looking significantly at Harry and Louis. They exchanged a glance but neither seemed to know what that was about.  
“Have you heard the song?” Liam asked, joining into the clapping that started.  
“Of course I have. A good friend gotta do what a good friend gotta do,” Alex said and they all turned to the stage.  
“The first song tonight is dedicated to my two good mates, and I hope they are here tonight. Let’s see,” he said, standing on the tippy toes and looking around to the quiet giggles of the public. “Tall fucker?”  
“Piss off!” Harry shouted and the people around them laughed.  
“There we go,” Niall said, smirking. He adjusted his guitar one last time and took in a deep breath. “That’s History for you.”


	12. EPILOGUE

Harry woke up to a small hand patting his left bum cheek through the blanket.  
“Mrph,” he said into the pillow and opened his eyes. Their bedroom was full of light and Georgie was standing there, her big blue eyes curious and hair all messy from sleep. Harry closed his eyes and felt sleep tug at him immediately.  
“Daddy?” came a small voice and he opened his eyes again. “Daddy, wake up,” Georgie said again and prodded his leg.  
“I’m up,” Harry mumbled, opening his eyes. He stretched with his arms straight like a cobra, his daughter watching him with curiosity. Harry sat up and opened his arms, smiling.  
“Where is my little girl?”  
Georgie giggled and climbed into his lap; Harry wrapped her in his arms at once, and she hugged his neck, standing up on his legs to speak into his ear:  
“Daddy Louis is cooking breakfast and he asked me to come wake you up. And he asked me to tell you to wake Jamie, too.”  
“Cooking breakfast?” Harry said, pulling back and frowning at her. “Are you sure our kitchen has not burnt down?”  
“Daddy Harry!”  
He flicked her nose gently and laughed, the muscles in his face still tight with sleep.  
“I’m joking, love. Let’s go wake Jamie.”  
She clapped her hands together and Harry dropped her back to the floor carefully. Georgie grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room. They passed a mirror and Harry took in his dark circles and a torn knee on his pyjamas bottoms. He should probably stop writing songs at night. And get a new pyjamas set. He would ask Louis to give him one for Christmas.  
They smelled cinnamon in the hallway and Harry sniffed the air carefully, growing more and more suspicious by the second. He squinted at the staircase which led downstairs into their kitchen, but remembered he had a son to wake up first, and a very insistent daughter.  
“Daddy Harry, come on. We’ll be late for breakfast!”  
“Late for breakfast?” he asked, stopping right in front of Jamie’s door. “How can we be late for our own breakfast, love?”  
“It’s Sunday, daddy, remember?”  
She looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry looked around the hallway to make sure he was still in the present time and place, at their cottage with their kids.  
“Why would a Sunday breakfast matter? Do we have a new tradition I’m not aware of?”  
“Uncles Niall and Liam are coming!”  
“They are?”  
“Of course!”  
“Why?”  
She sighed just like Louis did when Harry was annoying him, which made him smile. He took her up in his arms and she squealed before wrapping her arms around his neck.  
“I’m sorry love. Daddy Harry is old and needs to check his memory, it seems.”  
“You are not old! Daddy Louis is older than you and he did not forget Niall and Liam were coming!”  
It was Harry’s turn to scoff.  
“Older, I beg your pardon. He is barely a month older than I am!”  
“Are you ever coming down or not?” came a voice from downstairs and they both gave a start.  
“Two minutes!” Harry shouted back.  
“I mean, the pancakes are going to get cold, so it’s your choice, you know.”  
“Start the tea, Daddy, we’ll be right there!” Georgie shouted.  
“Alright. Just don’t blame me if it’s cold when you finally come back.”  
Harry shook his head and pecked Georgie on her cute button nose.  
“Come on. One sleepy head needs to get up here,” he said as he pushed open the doors.  
Jamie was drawn up into a ball and sleeping peacefully, his caramel curls covering his forehead. Harry propped Georgie higher in his arms and brought his finger to his lips, silently asking her to not make a sound. She nodded solemnly and they tiptoed into the room. When they made it to the bed, Harry crouched down and looked around. He spotted their cat’s toy – a long stick with feathers on it – and muttered “Perfect”. Georgie hid her giggles behind her hand.  
“Jamie,” he said, tickling his son’s cheek with the feathers. “Jamie, wake up. Daddy Louis has cooked breakfast, we can’t miss that.”  
‘’Mrph,” Jamie said, scrunching up his face and covering it with a blanket.  
“Jamie!” Georgie said reproachfully. “Daddy said wake up!”  
“Just another minute.”  
Harry chuckled, recognising so much of himself in Jamie. He had to pull out his secret weapon.  
“Niall is coming over.”  
Jamie opened one eye and squinted at them.  
“Niall is coming over? Really?”  
“Yes. And if you want to see him, you better get up now.”  
“Alright, alright.”  
“See you downstairs in four minutes,” Harry said pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at Jamie’s. Jamie smiled reluctantly and sat up.  
They left the room and Harry lifted Georgie up, straightening his arms.  
“Airplane mode on, little princess.”  
She stuck out her little arms and laughed.  
“Zhhhh,” Harry said, speeding down the steps. They stopped when they saw a very unimpressed Louis Tomlinson look at them from the kitchen doorway.  
“Hi,” Harry said, dropping Georgie down to the floor gently but looking at Louis all the while. Louis looked a bit cold and Harry felt guilty. He swallowed and watched Georgie run into the kitchen, eager to make the table and blissfully ignorant of her parents’ quarrel from last night. “Petal, I’m sorry,” Harry said, stepping closer but stopping a few steps in front of his husband, not fully sure if he was allowed to be closer at the moment.  
“What are you sorry about, exactly?” Louis said quietly yet still managing to fit in some heat into the words.  
“I’m sorry I stayed up late last night even though you asked me to help you with the kids,” Harry said, inching closer as he spoke. Louis was watching him intently, his eyes a tad softer. Though that could just be the sunlight. Harry breathed in silently, choosing his next words carefully. “And I finished the last song this night, so I won’t need to stay up writing any more.”  
“I think you wanted to say that you won’t stay up late all night till your next album deal with another superstar.”  
Harry smiled in all thirty-two and tried to look apologetic and goofy. He probably managed because Louis just sighed and his features went back to their normal, kind state.  
“Come on, wash your hands, we’ve got breakfast to eat.”  
“You made breakfast?” Harry asked as he closed the distance between them and circled his arms around his waist.  
“Cinnamon pancakes.”  
Harry squinted at him and Louis held it for all of three seconds before throwing up his arms.  
“Alright, alright, I may have bought a pancake mixture when shopping yesterday. But if somebody helped me shop, they would know,” he said, dabbing an accusing finger into his chest.  
“Do you want to go to dinner with me tonight? I’m sure Niall would be happy to have the kids over. Georgie and Jamie love it at Niall and Amy’s,” Harry said against his lips.  
“Alright. But you are taking me to the most expensive thing in the neighbourhood.”  
Harry smiled before he leaned in all the way and finally kissed him. Louis mumbled something like “morning breath” against his lips, but Harry just drew him closer until Louis threw his hands around his neck and stood up on his tippy toes. They heard their doorbell wring and,  
“Ew!”  
Harry pulled away and they both looked at Jamie on the stairs with disgust on his face.  
“Get a room, you two,” he said, trotting down the stairs and decidedly not looking at them.  
“Do you think he spends a bit too much time with Niall?” Louis asked. Harry turned back and pecked him on the lips before drawing away.  
“He might have, yeah.”  
They watched Jamie open the door and Niall appear in the hallway, shaking hands with their son; Liam and Zayn were right at his hills, both crouching down to catch Georgie who ran out of the kitchen when she heard them.  
“Or not. I think we have a rather nice family, you know.”  
“Yeah, I just never expected it to be a family of,” Louis counted everyone. “Seven.”  
“I like it that way. Don’t get tired of you that quickly.”  
“Wanker.”


End file.
